The Black Void
by dara isethia
Summary: A traveler lost for many years has returned. However, his return has opened the way to a great evil. Now, a band of heroes must come together to face a foe unlike any previously seen on Mithgar. The contining story of the Crusaders.
1. The Lost Coron

Chapter One

The Lost Coron

In a small glen, near the southern border of Arden Vale, the air suddenly began to shimmer. Then, seemingly from thin air, a horse and rider appeared. The rider, though Elven in physical form, had the appearance of a human in his seventies. His hair was the color of driven snow. The skin was wrinkled around his eyes, forehead, neck, and hands.

As the horse clamored about the glen, the rider reined back on the beast. This caused the horse to rear up on its hide legs and kick at the air with its front hooves. Settling down and standing on all fours once again, the horse whinnying and blowing, stamped its front hooves as if uneasy or spooked. The rider leaned forward in his saddle and, patting the horse on the neck, spoke a few gentle words into its ear. The horse calmed some, though it still seemed alarmed. Sitting up straight in his saddle once more, the rider surveyed his surroundings and, once again leaning forward to pat his horse on the neck, smiled broadly for he had finally found his way home.

Turning his horse northeast, the rider urged his horse into a slow trot; this direction to carry him to the home of the Lian on Mithgar. As the Elf rode he tried to count the seasons since he last trod upon Mithgar. The past years now seemed nothing more than a blur, though in truth they had been arduous nonetheless. How many times had he faced death? How many times had he seen good comrades fall in battle? Should he have come back to Mithgar at all? These were questions the Elf did not care to dwell on, for he did not wish to remember.

Having traveled for the remainder of the day, the Elf came up the settlement of the Lian. Riding in the settlement, the Elf was greeted with many waves; these to be followed by looks of confusion. Now riding to the Main Hall, the Elf dismounted and entered, seeking council with the Coron.

As he entered the hall, Trean, an Elfess of Arden, met him at the door; she to look upon him with wonder and confusion ere she spoke. "Welcome traveler. Welcome to the Hall of Arden. Home of Coron Duron," Trean said, looking at the newcomer from around the edge of the opened door. Trean looked upon the Elf and felt she should know him. His features were somewhat familiar, yet she could not place him, for he appeared as an old man. Since none of Elven kind had ever appeared so, Trean looked upon him in wonder.

The Elf, starting somewhat at the Elfess's words, turned to look at her, then, taking in what she had said, asked, "Coron Duron? When last I trod upon Mithgar, the High Coron was Jhareen, son of Arth. He was left to serve as Coron in my stead whilst I journeyed on a mission dire. How long has Duron been Coron? How long did Jhareen serve in that capacity?"

Trean's face paled as she took in the Elf's words. Then, looking at him more intently, she recognized the Elf for who he was: Glaven, the Lost Coron. "Alor Glaven," said Trean, "forgive me for I did not recognize thee. Thy features betray thy former self, so I was not all sure whom I addressed. Please come with me, for I deem Coron Duron would speak with thee concerning thy journey." With this, Trean turned to walk down a hallway leading away from the front door where Glaven now stood and, motioning for him to follow, turned to gaze up at Glaven's aged features once more ere turning and continuing down the hallway.

Entering the main room of Arden Hall, the two were greeted by an Elf exiting the room with an empty tray in one hand and an urn in the other. This Elf stared at Glaven, a questioning look upon his face, as they passed him by and moved into the main room. As the two approached the rear of the room, they saw, sitting upon a low dais, an Elf with chestnut hair flowing down to meet his shoulders. Upon his head was a thin, golden crown, this denoting his status as High Coron. Now setting his cup on a small table beside the chair he sat in, Duron looked up to greet the two as they approached him. Recognizing Trean, Duron bade her good day; then, looking at Glaven, Duron could not yet believe what he was seeing.

Looking from Glaven to Trean, then back to the aged Elf, Duron spoke, "Do mine eyes deceive me?" Then, as he arose from his seat and moved toward the two, Duron stepped down from the dais to stand in front of Glaven, his hands to reach out and clasp the aged Elf by the arms. "My old friend, I had thought thee lost forever, never to return. Yet, here thou stand before me, though thine appearance is not as I remember."

"Aye, Duron," said Glaven as he reached out to clasp Duron's arms, "my features have withered, as does the grass whither in the fall. My journey was tortuous beyond measure, for I fought a foe none on Mithgar nor Adonar have ever encountered, and on a plane I feel none of our kind have ever trod."

As Duron stood clasping Glaven, he smiled broadly upon him for he had missed his friend of old. Then, releasing Glaven's arms, Duron stepped back from the Elf and said, "I would hear thy tale, friend, yet I deem thy body requires a goodly amount of rest ere we speak of such."

Glaven nodded, then said, "Aye, Coron Duron, a long rest would be most welcome. A bath and hot meal as well."

With that, Trean excused herself from the room; she to fetch food and drink for Glaven. Too, to have a warm bath and bed prepared for him.

After the food was brought to him, Glaven sat with Duron and spoke of times long past. Then, after he had finished his meal, Glaven was shown to the wash room where a warm bath awaited him. After the bath, he was shown to his room. Then, Glaven, sleeping on and off between ill dreams, did so the whole night through and most of the next day.

~*~

After he had risen and dressed in his freshly cleaned clothes, Glaven left his room and sought out Duron, for the Coron must hear his tale and be warned of the Evil that Glaven had encountered on his journey. Glaven knew that if the vileness he had encountered was able to make its way to this plane, all on Mithgar would suffer severely.

Duron, seated upon the dais in the Main Hall, looked up as Glaven was led into the room. This time an Elf named Varod escorted Glaven into the Main Hall; Trean having been assigned this day to a hunting party. As Glaven approached the dais, Duron stood and, stepping down from the dais, indicated a small table near the wall to the left of the dais. As the two pulled chairs from under the able and began to sit, Duron bade the escort bring them some tea and to not allow anyone into the Main Hall until they were finished.

Varod soon returned with the tea, only to find the two Elves laughing as they talked. After placing two cups on the table and filling them with tea, Varod placed the tea urn on a small side table and then, as the two Elves once again burst into laughter, exited the room.

"Ah, my old friend, it is good to talk with thee once again. I had feared thee lost forever upon thine entrance into that Black Void that we encountered at the edge of Arden so long ago."

Glaven, looking at Duron as he spoke, remembered some of the questions Trean had not answered; this being how long Duron had been Coron and how long Jhareen had served as such. "I would know how long Jhareen served as Coron after I took my leave," said Glaven, taking the cup set before him by Varod. Holding the cup in both hands ere drinking, Glaven continued, "For the foul place I have been seems to render one's awareness of such useless. Though it seems I was there for only a few months, I have returned to find it may have been many seasons. I would say, not only does the elemental make-up on that dire plane appear to distort time, too, it seems to have also aged my body in a way no Elf has ever known."

Listening to Glaven's words, Duron nodded and, taking up his own cup, sipped the warm tea therein. When Glaven had finished talking, Duron, setting his cup down on the table, looked up at his friend then down to his cup as he figured the total number of seasons since Glaven entered the Void. Then, looking back up at Glaven, Duron said, "It has been some nine hundred ninety seasons since thee left this place. Jhareen stepped down from the position of Coron some five hundred seasons after thy departure, thus fulfilling thine intended term as Coron. He felt that since he was not selected by all of Arden to be Coron, but instead had been assigned to the post as a surrogate, he had not the right to stay longer than thee had planned to. After his departure from the position, I was selected to serve as Coron. I have served in that capacity for the past four hundred ninety seasons, and I must say that none of my days as Coron have been more pleasant than yesterday. For yesterday I received back unto myself a dear friend of old. Though thine appearance is that of an old man, I can still see in thine eyes that same glint of youth that was ever with thee, and that gladdens mine heart."

Though smiling at Duron's last words, Glaven, looking down at the cup in his hands, could not help but feel a sense of loss upon learning the number of seasons he had been missed on Mithgar. He felt as he had missed so much, and all for the simple fact that he believed it was his position and none other's to enter the Black Void on that fateful day. Had he known what evil awaited on the other side of that ebon portal, he would never have entered it. Yet, at the same time, he would not have sent any other in his stead and so he had entered himself, not knowing the evil and terror that awaited him.

Duron, noticing the look of chagrin on his friend's face, asked, "Tell me, Glaven, what awaited thee on the other side of the Void?"

Looking up from his cup of now cold tea, Glaven, slowly turning his head from side to side, looked at Duron and with a tone of pure hatred in his voice said, "Evil is what I found there. Pure evil. Evil the likes of which this plane has never seen." Looking down at his cup once more, then lifting it to his lips to down the remainder of its contents, Glaven continued, "The whole of that dire world is in constant chaos. One day the world was brutally cold, the next, dry as sand and hot as a desert. The sun is seldom seen for it is oft hidden by rolling, boiling dark clouds. The demons that roam the land are most hideous and vile. These are driven on their vile quest by the Great Evil that controls that land. There are free folk about the land, though 'free' may not be the correct label for them." Placing the now empty cup on a small table, Glaven waved off Duron's offer of a refill. Then, clasping his hands together in his lap, Glaven continued, "I was fortunate to become acquainted with some of the folk living there. How they can survive an almost daily fight against the Great Evil and his minions is testament to their belief that he can be defeated." Glaven, slamming fist into palm, said, "They are a hearty folk. I only pray they can find a way to defeat him. But, back to the root of my story. As I said before, time on that plane is not the same as on this plane. So my days there seemed to be few, though I now know different. I saw many good people and comrades die, too, I noticed that the very youth was being drained from my body. I would not have made my way back to Mithgar had it not been for a traveler who entered that ravaged plane. He said that he was a traveler of the planes and had visited many. Some of these he lived on several seasons ere leaving. Though this last plane saw his final demise, he gave me an amulet which he claimed could aid me in returning to Mithgar, for I had been trying to do so since the day I arrived. So, I would have to say that since I am now here, he was correct." Glaven now fell silent, hands clasped on his lap and tears brimming in his eyes.

Duron, having sat silently as his friend talked, extended a hand to his friend's shoulder in an effort to console him, though he knew not the extent to which Glaven's sorrow and pain reached. Rising from his seat and placing his cup on the small table, Duron said, "Well, my friend, thou are now free of that dire plane and all its demons. I would ask thee to stay with thy kindred here in Arden Vale, for we would welcome thy company among us again."

Glaven looked up at Duron, a look of fright upon his face.

Seeing his friend's expression, Duron asked, "What is the bother, my friend?"

Glaven, turning his head down and away from his friend, said, "My Coron, though I am glad to be rid of that dire plane, I believe my return may have set into motion events that may prove dire to Mithgar. My returning may bring much evil to this plane."

At Glaven's words, Duron, once again sitting in his chair, asked Glaven, "What dire events do thee speak of? What evil is to visited upon Mithgar? As he asked this questions, Duron could not help but sense a dark foreboding in Glaven's demeanor.

Glaven, still sitting, his face averted from Duron, cried out, "Oh, Adon, what have I done?! WHAT HAVE I DONE?!"

He then began to cry inconsolably as Duron, moving from his chair to kneel in front of Glaven and taking hold of Glaven's arms, asked, "Glaven, what are thou saying?" Then Duron said, "My friend, I fear thee are yet weary from thy journey. A few more days rest shall see thy thoughts . . ."

Ere Duron could say anything more, Glaven looked up to face Duron kneeling before him, then said, "Don't you understand? My returning to this plane has shown the Great Evil the path to this plane! I have forsaken all of Mithgar for the sake of mine own pitiful soul."

Duron, now understanding the full extent of Glaven's words, released his grip on Glaven's arms and, slumping back to sit on his feet, asked, "When shall this Great Evil you speak of manifest itself upon this plane? How shall we defend against it?"

Glaven, now regaining control and composure after his outburst, said, "My Coron, if the Great Evil sensed the portal opening unto Mithgar, I fear we have very little time. We should gather all able-bodied warriors, send messengers to other settlements to spread the news." Looking into Duron's eyes, Glaven said, "Tell them to prepare for Hel to visited upon Mithgar."

As the two sat in the Main Hall talking, a Black Void opened in a small glen near the southern border of Arden Vale.

Disclaimer: This story, like my previous stories, is based on an online roleplaying game. The world of Mithgar and the characters Vanidor and Aravan from a series of books by Dennis McKiernan. The other characters were created by various people involved in the game. I own the character Julina, who will be introduced in a few chapters. This story is a sequel to my previous story, The Silver Quarrel, and takes place a thousand years after the events in that story.


	2. The End of Peace

****

Chapter Two

The End of Peace

On a lone trail, not too far from Arden Vale, joyful laughter was heard, carrying through the dense forest surrounding the trail. Vanidor looked over to Kaelea, a smile forming upon his face as he watched her, their horses uneasy around each other in this close a space. Stopping for a moment to dismount and rest their horses a bit, feeding them a little grain and letting them drink in a small stream nearby, Vanidor looked out into the woods, his smile gone as he remembered times passed.

Kaelea, noticing this, walked over to him and placed a reassuring hand upon his shoulder. They both sat down, talking about things that others talk about when alone and, of course, in love.

Near evening, their ears picked up the thud of hooves hitting the ground at a steady pace. Both rose quickly, hands going to the hilts of their swords naturally as the sound came closer. Relaxing as they saw who it was: Nevin, the High King's page who had been with them for a while, riding in a on the black stallion which had drawn much attention to it.

Seeing the state of the two Elves, and the amount of clothing on each of their bodies, the page blushed deeply, crimson playing at each and every part of his face. "Sorry to disturb the two of you," he finally stuttered out, still not able to look at the two. "Coron Duron sent me. He wishes your presence with him and his council right away. Something is amiss, he says, but will say until you and the Lady Kaelea arrive."

Hearing this, Vanidor frowned slightly, his voice soft as he spoke next, "I thank thee very much, Nevin. Thou may now return and tell the Coron we shall be in council shortly.

With this, the page left at once, nodding briefly to the Elves. Saddling up quickly, the two followed the page's lead, heading back toward Arden Vale to see what was happening and why there was a council when everything had seemed so fine a few hours ago.

~*~

Rising from his bedroll as the first golden rays of sunlight set to illumine his face, Kaje reached for his cloak and covered his body as he strode away from the small camp. Walking some thirty yards east of the camp, Kaje listened intently to the sounds of splashing water. Now, moving through the brush as softly as possibly, he came to a small stream running pure and clean, its depth at this point some five feet near the middle. The splashing sounds could yet be heard some distance away and around a bend in the small stream. _This is the perfect spot to begin my attack_, thought Kaje.

Dropping his cloak to the ground, the Lian warrior slid into the cool, clear water. Swimming with nought but the tip of his head above the water, eyes just above the surface, Kaje now moved without any noise at all. As he rounded a small corner in the stream, Kaje could now see his quarry, and he moved ever toward it.

As he moved to within twenty feet of his prey, Kaje dropped fully beneath the water. Peering through the clear water, he moved upon his unsuspecting prey.

~*~

Standing atop the vertically sheared cliff, Faedra gazed out over the lush green fields of Valon. Turning and looking to her right, she could see the great mist swirling up from Bellon Falls, there were the mighty Argon River plunged over an immense grot and plummeted down some four hundred feet to fall into the Cauldron. Looking out into the eastern sky, Faedra espied a sleek, auburn colored falcon gliding through the air, a great thermal holding the predator aloft, its eyes scanning the scape far below. Letting her eyes take in the vast, panoramic scene once more, Faedra, standing upon the high crest, nought but an Elven cloak wrapped about her slender frame, slowly turned from the magnificent sight and walked back to a stream flowing some twenty feet behind her. Doffing the cloak and then testing the temperature of the water with her foot, Faedra stepped into the cool running water.

Standing atop a large boulder submerged in the stream, Faedra splashed water upon her body, reveling in the pureness of the cool water. Dipping her head beneath the water, Faedra twisted her head about, her long ebon hair spreading out from her head as if caught in a weightless environment, the dark, soft strands floating gently in the water.

Then, of a sudden, something grasped her legs!, her feet pulled off the boulder. Thrashing about wildly with her arms, water impeding her movements, Faedra sought to discover her attacker. Then, as suddenly as the attack had begun, it was over.

Bursting from the water and into the fresh morning air, Faedra looked upon her attacker, her lover, her boon companion for the past millennia. And, seeing the playful, yet wicked smile that played about his face, Faedra, in her ever courtly way of speaking, shouted at him as he began to laugh, "How dare thee come upon me unawares. I had thought myself besieged by none other than some vile beast from Neddra."

At this Kaje laughed all the harder, then said, "Forgive me, _chieran_. I meant only to frighten thee a small bit. I did not mean to give thee such a fright. I promise." Kaje stifled his laughter as he moved toward the Dara, she moving away from him as he approached. "Let us back to camp, my fair Dara, for I would have us break our fast ere much longer."

Still moving away from Kaje, both bodies facing one another, both submerged to their necks, Faedra said, "My, but thou doth eat a large amount for one as lithe as thee."

"Tis mine ever burning love for thee which saps my very being and drains my body," Kaje said as he moved nearer and nearer to the Dara.

"I would say that if thy love is so great mayhap thou shouldst sate thine inner needs here a the stream." A coy smile played about Faedra's face as she spoke.

And then, as Wrens and Sparrows flitted about the bows of the willow trees hanging over the cool running stream, the two became as one, each offering their body to the other. And the cool water of the stream flowed on, dancing about the rounded, smooth stones, purling through narrow chutes, foaming as it gathered up against, then flowed over yet larger stones, yet still ever racing toward the mighty Argon River.

~*~

Nigh noon, two prancing horses made their way out of a stand of trees and headed north and east, two Lian Elves upon their backs; two Elves very much in love with one another. Traveling along this path for some three days, the two finally came unto Caer Lindor; the castle there nothing more than a jumble of fallen stone and cracked granite block.

Camping amid the ruins of the once great castle, Kaje and Faedra spent the better of two days upon the small isle. For the most part, their days on the isle were filled with explorations of the castle ruins, other times found them sharing the many wonderful things that only lovers can.

After the two days spent on the isle, the two rode for Crestan Pass and then on to Arden Vale. Upon entering the warded Vale, the two were hailed by a guardian ere they had even entered the valley. Reining their horses back, Faedra and Kaje guided their steeds to the now visible guardian; the Lian having been concealed in the lush growth about the base of the Eld Tree.

As the two dismounted, the guardian approached, a wary look upon his face. "Your names please," the guardian asked tersely, bow at the ready, arrow knocked.

Faedra and Kaje looked from the guardian to each other and then back to the warder ere throwing back their hoods, their pointed Elven ears now showing.

"Forgive mine actions," the guardian said, "These are dire times and all entering Arden are suspect."

At this, Faedra and Kaje looked at one another and then back to the guardian. "Tell us, friend," said Kaje, "what hast befallen the land that all are suspect?"

"I am not to speak of such while on my post. Yet if ye ride to Vale's Heart and the Coron Hall therein, all will be explained. I am to say no more other than something dire has befallen the Vale and all are needed in this desperate time."

Taking in the guardian's words, Kaje and Faedra nodded to the warder ere mounting their steeds and riding off toward Vale's Heart and the Coron Hall; these being a ride of some day and half away by swift horse. And so they were away, the guardian urging them to all haste as they departed. And thus they rode, reaching Vale's Heart in but one day and a quarter.

~*~

Upon entering the heart of the Vale, Faedra and Kaje were met by Vanidor and Kaelea, they having only recently entered Vale's heart as well.

"We were told of ill events in the Vale," said Kaje as he and Faedra approached Vanidor and Kaelea.

"Aye, tis true, my friends," said Vanidor. "Glaven, the lost Coron, has returned unto Arden and with him comes news of dire import. Let us to thy cabin and there we shall tell all that we know."

~*~

The four, now in Faedra and Kaje's cabin, sat around a small table as Vanidor recounted all he had been told. As he finished his tale, Faedra and Kaje could do nought but stare at the Lian and wonder at how such could be.

"So, the main of the story is that Glaven, now aged and appearing as an older, has returned from the in-between and some fell plane. A plane where stalks a great evil. And now he fears that the evil from that plane may have found a path unto this very plane."

Vanidor and Kaelea nodded to Kaje's words.

"Tis a dire event this is," Kaje said. Looking to Faedra and then back to Vanidor and Kaelea, he asked, "Where did this crossing take place?"

"In a southern area of the Vale. There where the great ebon morass was spotted some nine hundred years agone," said Vanidor.

"The very one Glaven stepped into at the time?" asked Kaje.

"Aye, one and the same," said Vanidor.

"Have any journeyed back to that place?" asked Faedra.

"Aye, Dara," said Vanidor. "Some of the Guardians have traveled back to that place. There in the small glen can be seen an ebon pool. An ebon pool which seems to float in the very air, though nought has emerged from that dire portal. Mayhap nothing will. Yet the glen is now warded and all within the Vale are at alert should anything step through."

Looking at Faedra and Kaje, their clothes stained with sweat and dust accumulated during their long and hasty ride to Vale's Heart, Vanidor, turning to look at Kaelea, said, "Let us away to our cabin, _chieran_, and leave these two so that they may wash away the effects of their hard ride." Then, turning once more to look at Kaje and Faedra, Vanidor said, "I would that on the morrow we ride to see this ebon morass. For I would look upon it with mine own eyes."

"As would I," said Kaje, Faedra nodding likewise.

"On the morrow then," said Vanidor. "Rest well, my friends. For who's to say what may be encountered in that evil-filled glen."

As Vanidor and Kaelea rose to take their leave, Kaje and Faedra bade them good eve. Then, turning to look at the Dara as the door closed, Kaje said, "Well, _chieran_, it would seem our time for folly is ended."

"Aye, _chier_. That it is."

And so they bathed and rested, too, they prepared for battle should it come.


	3. The Void

****

Chapter Three

Preparations. The Void.

Waking up early, well before the sun rose, Vanidor stretched as he moved from the bed he shared with Kaelea. Moving toward the wall where his clothes and other belongings were, he dressed slowly, still quite tired, but knowing he must be up early. Clasping his belt around his waist, securing the two long daggers at his belt and placing his long sword in its usual place at his back, he moved over to the window. Opening the shutter he looked out into the night sky, twilight still taking up most of his vision.

Sitting up slowly, Kaelea spotted Vanidor at the window. Rising from the bed, she wrapped the silk blanket around herself, moving beside Vanidor and looking out into the sky as well. "A little early to be up, eh, Vanidor?" she asked with a raised brow.

"And who was it that kept me up late last night?" he asked, a grin forming upon his face.

Hitting him playfully in the arm, she moved toward her own weapons and clothing. "It wasn't my fault alone, Alor."

Closing the shutters and moving toward the door, both Vanidor and Kaelea stepped out into the cool morning air, faint light spreading itself along the horizon. Heading toward the stables to meet Faedra and Kaje, they instead met them on the way, the four of them greeting each other with warm smiles and tired eyes. Stepping into the stables, they were greeted by the old Coron and the new, both readying their own horses, supplies laid out for each person already. Saddling their horses, they headed out of the stable and toward the spot where the Void had opened.

~*~

The days following the quest which had seen the crusaders thrust into the bowels of Dantor's lair were filled with peace. With his gentle nature, warm heart, and tender spirit, Kaje had healed Faedra. His mere presence cradled her soul, and she yearned to be ever at his side. Despite his care, however, she continued to awaken at night, screaming in terror at the sight of Galador's decimated corpse. These visions, Faedra deemed, would haunt her forever. Nevertheless, her time with Kaje had been restful and carefree, for he had provided stability, an element that Faedra had so needed and desired in her life. But that stability had been threatened by an unknown peril that may very well cause the death of her love. The theft of two dear immortal souls would surely thrust Faedra into a state of grief that she could not bear.

Such were the thoughts that plagued Faedra's mind as the group rode ever toward the ebon morass. Her voice, which was usually uplifted in a sweet Elven song, was overtaken and silenced by worry.

Soon, the group halted for a short rest. Kaelea and Faedra prepared some refreshing tea and handed each of their companions a cup. They offered their appreciation, and Faedra smiled in return.

Kaje finished his tea and walked to a nearby tree, which he sat against, legs outstretched before him, his eyes closed.

Faedra watched him for some time, debating. Then, she hesitantly made her way over to his still frame, not wanting to disturb his respite but needing to speak with him.

As Faedra drew near, Kaje opened his eyes and said, "Not now, my loving Dara. I am yet weary." The playful and naughty smile that Faedra had come to know so well danced across his lips.

Blushing furiously, Faedra stood before her beloved with hands on hips, prepared to address him. Ere she could utter a word, however, he erupted in laughter, and Faedra's silvery trills soon joined in as she succumbed to his mirth.

Then, sobering, Faedra knelt at Kaje's side and traced and caressed his face with a gentle hand. "_Chier_, I love thee with all my being." She looked down; then continued, "And I am terribly frightened that this dreadful evil shall take thee from me." Faedra lifted her head up and gazed deeply into Kaje's eyes, taking in the strength she discovered therein, and traced his scar with her index finger. "I cannot bear losing yet another love. The days ahead bring uncertainty, _chier_, and I pray that thy life shall not be forfeited. And I would gladly substitute my life for thine should that be thy fate." Unable to say more, she fell silent.

"Thou shouldst not worry for my fate, _chieran_, for I have seen many battles and endured them." Kaje said as he reached up and took Faedra's hand in his. "Now that I have thee, _chieran_, I shall ever be at thy side." Then, raising her hand to his mouth, he kissed the lithe fingers. Releasing her hand and taking her face in his hands, he then kissed her softly and gently.

Once again leaning back against the tree, he looked at her and though her spirit seemed somewhat lifted, her eyes yet held a small glint of fear and worry for some unforeseen loss that she hoped would never come. And seeing this, Kaje pulled her to him once more and, wrapping his arms about her small frame, hugged her unto him, softly kissing her slender neck as he did so.

~*~

As the others in the group began to mount their steeds, Kaje and Faedra arose and walked to their horses and mounted up as well. The group, heading ever south-westerly, had traveled nigh half a day and were nearing their destination when of a sudden; "Aaaiieee! . . . _Chier_!"

Kaje jerked his head about to see Faedra trembling in her saddle, a sharp cry having just emanated from her mouth. Reining his horse about, he quickly rode to her side, all others in the group hauling back on their reins and coming to a stop.

Placing a hand on the Dara's shoulder, Kaje asked, "What has frightened thee, _chieran_?"

"Oh, _chier_, canst thou not feel the evil about this place? Does it not bear down on thy very soul?" Faedra looked at Kaje as she spoke, tears welling in her eyes, desperation showing up in her face. Then, looking around at the others, she asked, "Do none of ye feel it?"

Glaven, some ten yards ahead of the others, turned in his saddle and answered, "I know what thou art feeling, Dara. For I have felt the evil that emanates from this place once agone." All turned to look at the eld Lian as he spoke on. "I felt the vileness that pulses from this place, or should I say, the vileness that pulses from yon maw." Glaven pointed at the black, amorphous void visible some thirty yards ahead of them.

The others in the group looked along the direction in which he pointed and, seeing the undulating sphere in the clearing ahead, they, too, became aware of the pulsing dread that radiated out from the void.

Riding at Faedra's side, Kaje followed the others as they approached the ebon sphere. And, as they entered into the small clearing, the void began to throb, growing and expanding as it did so. As the group came to a halt, they sat mesmerized by the sight at hand. Then came a sudden rush of wind blasting out and away from the sphere. A strange ebon werelight radiated out from the sphere as the wind blasted, leaves on nearby tree flittering in the sudden blast. Horses reared up and kicked the air with their hooves. And from several points around the small glen, Lian warriors rushed into the clearing; bows knocked, swords at the ready.

Looking about in surprise, all on horseback looked from the blasting maw to the as yet unseen warders. All, that is, expect Duron, he having sent the warriors to this place some days past to keep a constant vigil on the void.

As all ahorse turned to look back at the gaping maw, there came a great shrieking sound from the pulsing blast. Then, of a sudden, from within the amorphous sphere there appeared a multitude of vile beasts; some of which closely resembled Loka, others appearing as Vulgs, yet more compact were these. And as all ahorse and all afoot retreated back to the edges of the clearing, a large dark beast stepped from the void; the beast standing some nine feet tall and having great muscled arms and chest, legs with knee joints that bent to the rear, and a head with one long horn curving back from the center of its forehead and tapering to a cruelly twisted point some twelve inches above.

Then, standing in the small clearing, the hideous beast looked around at the Elves standing about the perimeter of the glen, the other beasts within the void then stepping through. After all had exited the void, they stood around the mighty beast and brandished cruelly barbed spears and long curved swords; these beset with a keenly honed hook on the backside of the blade, there near the tip.

Looking around at the small creatures before him, the great beast let out a piercing howl, dread emanating with the sound. The Lian around the clearing froze in their tracks as the beast did so. Then, speaking in a language that only the dark invaders could understand, the mighty beast, as well as his many minions, began to fade from sight, their forms becoming almost translucent. Then, as if a great blast of wind was blowing, the dark invaders blasted out of the small glen. Up and away and to the east through the trees, bows and branches bending back as the dark wind swept past. And of the dark sphere, there was no sign.

As all about the clearing gathered their wits, Duron and Glaven urged their mounts to the center of the clearing, others following suit. And looking about at all therein, Duron, his face drawn and gaunt, looked to Glaven and asked, "Glaven, have thou any idea as to the nature of the vile beast we have just witnessed?"

"Aye, Duron, I know the beast well."

All in the clearing turned to look at Glaven as he spoke.

"Twas the Great Evil I told thee of, my Coron. The one called by some Braxus; others simply name him the Great Evil. And, as I had feared, he has found the path I followed whence I returned unto this plane."

Then, with tears in his eyes, Glaven looked at all in the clearing, a look of deep sorrow and guilt upon his face as he spoke on: "Please forgive me for leading this foulness to Mithgar. I meant only to escape that desolate waste of a world in which he stalked. Please forgive me."

As he looked upon his friend of old, Duron could not help but feel a great deal of sympathy for the eld warrior. How much he had suffered. How much he had endured. Then, with a tear coming to his eye, Duron said, "Thou need not beg forgiveness, my friend. For thou hast done no wrong. Thou hast done what any here would have." And, reaching out to place a hand on his friend's shoulder, Duron addressed all in the clearing, "Let us away from this dark place and back to Vale's Heart. For I deem a council of war is needed. Too, we must send riders to warn all in the neighboring areas of the Fell Beast, this one called Braxus, that now roams the land. We must tell them to prepare for battle. For, if this beast is all that Glaven has told me, I fear that dark times lay ahead for Mithgar."

And so, all in the clearing turned to leave the befouled glen. For dark times in fact lay ahead for all upon Mithgar. And as they rode to Vale's Heart, all remained quiet for the most part. Others speculated on events yet to come, while one feared for the loss of a love and one fell into bitter despair for having led the way for one so vile.


	4. Returning Home

****

Chapter Four

Returning Home

The small group rode in Arden Vale's heart. Kaelea was a little ways behind the others. She was deathly pale and shuddering. She looked as if she would pass out.

Vanidor halted his mount and slid off, as did the others, while other Elves took their steeds to the stables. He looked back, seeking Kaelea and spied her still sitting upon her horse. He started toward her, but she didn't seem to notice. As he stepped beside her, he noticed her condition, and his face showed deep concern. He put a hand over hers. "_Chieran_, art thou unwell?"

She blinked her eyes a few times, then looked down at him. "I . . . I'm alright." She tried to get off her horse.

"No," Vanidor said softly and helped her down.

She leaned on him heavily. "I just need some rest," she spoke in a soft voice.

The others looked on in concern as he took her to their cottage.

~*~

Kaje and Faedra went off to their cottage. Faedra had been very silent as thoughts and visions bombarded her mind and she now sat at the foot of the bed cleaning her sword; Kaje sat in a chair doing likewise nearby.

Ere this day the peril that threatened all Faedra had come to love and cherish remained a mystery. However, now it had taken on the form of a beast most dire. And the sight of the horrid thing had caused concern to stir her spirit once again. Yet, her conversation with Kaje earlier had given her hope.

Faedra ceased cleaning her weapon, and without preamble began speaking to Kaje of her thoughts. "Oh, _chier_, my life with thee has been a merry one . . . merry for all the blessings I've rediscovered, all the hopes and dreams I've repossessed. My values have changed over these many long years. I've searched very carefully for lasting happiness, for what life really means to me. And I've found it. I've found it in a home. I've found it in beautiful Arden that I love so well. But most of all, Kaje, I've found it in thee.

"I dream every day, _chier_, of those magic moments we've shared. Recall our times at the sea. Ah, the sea. There, at ebb tide, thou didst find me standing at the water's edge, my back to thee. As thou didst approach with pounding heart, thou didst whisper my name, and I turned. Few people have known, or will ever know, the incomparable joy we shared then and share now. And there, as we stood, face to face, hand in hand, and we gazed into glistening eyes, at last we found peace. And till time should ever cease, for us there'll be no goodbyes."

"Aye, my fair Dara, till the end of time . . . and no goodbyes," said Kaje; he yet sitting on a chair with one of his swords lying across his legs, oil rag in hand; his gaze basking in the beauty of the fair Dara Faedra: her dark, flowing ebon hair, her chestnut eyes, her slender lithe frame; the very essence of her being causing his heart to overflow with joy.

"Yet, tis late, chieran, and we should to bed. For I deem on the morrow Duron shall hold council, and I would have us well rested."

And, as the light faded in their cabin, the lanthorn turned down, passion filled the air, lovers sharing only those things that lovers can; tender exchanges of emotional fulfillment, the gentle caress of bare flesh, the fulfillment of physical needs.

~*~

Kaelea tossed and turned in her bed, visions of the demon Braxus haunting her sleep. Also a great evil that spelled peril for all Mithgar. In her dreams, she feared the beast was a user of magic that would control her mind as Dantor had done. Then it would come to massacre everyone she had ever cared for, Vanidor among the first.

She shot up in bed and opened her eyes. She calmed when she saw where she was. The nightmares were gone. She looked out the tiny cottage window to see the moon and stars shining overhead.

"How long have I been asleep?" she asked herself.

She glanced beside her and noticed Vanidor sleeping soundly. The covers were pulled down low, revealing his bare chest. She smiled and reached down to absently stroke his hair. She closed her eyes and remembered when they had become lovers.

~*~

__

It was after Dantor had been defeated. She was cradling Aravan in her arms, caring for his many wounds, while Vanidor watched from beneath a tree, sharpening and cleaning his blade. Their eyes met a few times, and Kaelea swore she could see pain and the hints of jealousy in them. He wouldn't come near her when Aravan was around; he only watched her.

When Aravan was healed, he and Kaelea had one night of stolen love in a well-hidden place. That was all before he gave her the news that he had to depart.

The night before Aravan left was when Vanidor found Kaelea walking silently under the moon. Kaelea was very troubled that night. Vanidor snuck up on her, giving her a small fright, and they both laughed. He joined her in her walk, and they talked long into the night. For some reason they stopped, and for a long time, they just looked into one another's eyes. Suddenly he leaned down and kissed her. Something about it swept her off her feet. That night he spoke and showed her his love for her.

But Aravan was up late and saw everything.

The following day, as Aravan was about to leave, he turned to Kaelea and Vanidor and said, "I will not be able to return to thee for a long time, Kaelea." He paused. "And I know what has been happening between thee and Alor Vanidor. I was wrong to interfere. He loves thee, Kaelea, and I know his love is shared. Go with him. He deserves thee much more than I. I have yet to let go of my lost love. I could not give thee the love that Vanidor can."

Kaelea nodded slowly, with tears in her eyes, and they said their goodbyes. That was how she and Vanidor came to be.

~*~

She felt relieved remembering this, and with a smile, she curled up beside Vanidor and fell asleep with her head on his chest.

Disclaimer: In case I forgot to mention this before, this story is based on an online roleplaying game. The world of Mithgar and the characters Vanidor and Aravan are from a series of books by Dennis McKiernan. All other characters were created by people involved in this game. I own the character Julina, who will be introduced in a few chapters.


	5. The Hidden Tomb

****

Chapter Five

The Hidden Tomb. Braxus.

The tomb was eons old from before the time of the great cataclysm, before history itself. If one had a torch or lantern, he could see the carven runes along the wall of this abode of the dead, but no light was present; no light had burned here in the memory of Elves or Men. Nor was this place remembered among the races of Mithgar, for here were buried fell Wizards. Evil Mages from the forgotten past of Mankind's dim childhood.

The crypt lay undisturbed. Hidden within the caves of a great outcropping of rock that jutted skyward from a vast swamp, this swamp also on a large island itself, an isle named Kistan.

A cloud of dust filled the cavern as the door to the tomb was levered open, lanterns casting eerie shadows in the moldering mist. Peering through the rising gloom; mustachioed faces, the faces of sailors, lamplight outlining their features and reflected from their wide eyes. Pushing through the ranks of the superstitious raiders, some making gestures or saying prayers to their various gods, strode a large, red-haired man, shoulders scraping the sides of the passage.

The large warrior was clad in flowing yellow breeks and a leathern vest. A long curved cutlass was thrust through a red silk sash that was knotted about his waist. "BACK YOU DOGS!" he bellowed. "BACK, TOUCH NOTHING!"

The sailors that had crowded forward fell back before the words of this grim giant.

Kane had recruited this motley band of henchmen from among the docks and brothels of Kistan, promising them treasures untold. They had guided him to the remote swamp that festered in the very heart of the isle. He had chosen them for their shifty eyes, thieving ways, and vast superstitions. He could easily be rid of them with a well-placed glamor. If not, then they would dispose of each other for a larger share of the gold Kane had promised them.

Now they stood at his back, cowering from unseen demons and spirits of the dead, peering through the gloom for the promised treasures. Kane made a few cryptic gestures of his own, a smile playing across his lips.

As the dust settled and the details of the tomb could be seen, the sailors pointed and screamed, falling back upon one another in a blind frenzy to escape the demon, the warder of the dead that rose from the dust and moldering relics to rend their red-haired leader limb from limb.

Kane laughed as the fleeing sailors paddled the dinghy from the islet, his conjured "demon" slavering after. He would never have to worry about that lot returning, and they were sure to tell stories of the demons of the swamp, insuring no intrusions by others as well. Grinning to himself, Kane returned to the cave of the ancients.

~*~

Winding away to the east and north flew the Great Evil and his horde, the sight more akin to that of a whirlwind or ghastly, were-light filled dust devil, hideous moans and shrieks emanating out from the great blast. Out from Arden Vale, the abhorrent beast flew. On to the Drearwood, north and east of the Vale. Then the vile beast turned north and struck for the Gwasp; therein flying to the ruins of a long dead abomination of a man, or, some say, lair of a Dark Mage; he being named Cronthos.

Now, as the foul blast settled and came to a rest, Braxus once more surveyed his surroundings, his putrid minions to grovel at his cloven hooves, others to snuffle about the sodden earth; these were his curs, his rovers and renders of flesh. Some appeared as Loka of Neddra, yet some half a hand taller and stouter of build. Others appeared as Vulgs, yet more compact, wider at shoulder and haunch.

And still others winged about the air around their evil master. These were held aloft by great folds of leathery wings, the expansive pinions set to churn and swirl the putrid mist rising up from the great bog. Mid-way along the pumping wings were set grasping claws, these the size of human hands and set with jagged talons.

There stood Braxus, the Great Evil, the one come to conquer Mithgar. His appearance was a complete abomination of both man and beast. His face set with a heavy brow ridge, eyes wide-set and having slitted pupils surrounded by ruby irises; these set off against ebon surrounds. And, curving up and away from his forehead was a dark, onyx-like horn, this tapering upwards for some twelve inches and ending in a cruelly twisted point. His mouth surrounded by full, dark lips; these to conceal two rows, both bottom and top, of needle-like teeth. His massive chest, some three feet across near the shoulders, covered with coarse, dark hair, muscles rippling under skin the color of cooling lava. Just near the small of a back, a whip-like tail, scale covered and tipped with a jaggedly sharp talon, lashed about in the dank air. His arms, heavily muscled and covered with the same coarse hair and ending with hands the size of the average Elven skull; these having fingers tipped with pointed, talon-like nails. Supporting the massive torso were two heavily muscled legs; these set upon knee joints which bent to the rear, the shank below the knee joint supported by large cloven hooves.

And there he stood, steam wisping up from his massive form. Eyes brooding. Muscles tensing and relaxing. Heavy cloven hooves tramping up and down upon the stench-filled rot of the sodden earth. Powerful hands opening and closing, talon-like nails extending and retracting. Breath blasting from flared nostrils, mist set to swirl as the foul breath blew out. There stood evil incarnate. There stood Braxus, son of none and master of all. There he stood, plotting his next move, his next conquest.

~*~

Far away to the south and west, Elven riders ahorse roamed the land with all haste and warned all of the impending battle. And, to the call of the Lian, many rose up and moved to defend their land. Yet many of these would fight in vain. For they now faced a terrible foe. A foe that none upon Mithgar had encountered.

~*~

And, away to the north and east, Braxus strode in the ruins of Cronthos, and then to the tomb therein. Then, reaching down with one massive hand, talons clicked on the lip of the underside of the lid, he moved the heavy, rune marked granite slab with but one easy motion; the meaning of the runes unknown to all that now lived upon Mithgar, yet the great beast had no concern for the warning scribed therein. In the tomb was found the long-dead sorcerer Cronthos, his remains nought but bone covered by pallid, drawn flesh. Long, yellowed, curling nails depending from the fingertips. Long ebon hair wisping down, flowing from under a hood about the head, and set to frame the sunken features of the skull. The main of the corpse covered in faded cloths, a black robe wrapped around all.

Braxus stared down at the lifeless form in the tomb. The fingers of the corpse clasped about a long silveron blade extending out and down from the chest area, the blade laying against the withered form, hilt near the feet. Then, stepping to the foot of the tomb and reaching down into it, clasping the handle of the blade as he did so, Braxus pulled the sword from the corpse. And, as he did so, the form in the tomb drew in a long breath, the rictus mouth opening as breath was drawn in; pallid grey eyes opening, yet seeing nought.

As Cronthos sat up in the tomb, unseeing eyes looked about the moslem. Then, speaking in the Old High Tongue of the Mages, the corpse-like body spoke, words grating over vocal cords dried and taut from millennia of abandonment: [Who has freed me from the sword.]

Braxus, moving from the foot of the tomb, sword in hand, stepped to the side of the granite crypt and looked upon the gaunt form. Then, with hatred and loathing brimming in his eyes, Braxus, in a voice that emanated forth as a gathering echo and then surmounted into a sound like the tortured and ravaged souls of millions of past victims, said, "Was I, Braxus. Ruler of all. Slave of none. Render of souls."

Cronthos, turning his head toward the malevolent voice, vertebra grinding against vertebra, the cartilage therein long deteriorated, asked, [You would presume to rule over Gyphon?]

Then, with blinding speed, Braxus, rage distorting his features, plunged the silveron sword deep into Cronthos's chest, the withered form to then shriek and howl in agony ere falling back into the tomb. And, looking down upon the once again lifeless form, Braxus said, "Quell your questions, fool! For I am your master and none rule above me. Soon all shall know my wrath and bow down before me." Then, with a hideous booming laugh surging from his mouth, Braxus said, "All shall bow down . . . even this Gyphon you speak of."

Turning from the open tomb, silveron blade jutting up into the air, Braxus, cloven hooves clamping against stone, the sound to then echo throughout the dark chamber, strode from the ruins and called his minions unto him. And there in the dank, putrid march of the Gwasp, foul beasts were sent to rove the land, winged beasts sent to fly o'er the land, and all commanded to then retell all espied thereon to their master. And the Great Evil brooded as his lackeys sped away. For he would rule this world as well as well as the many others he had seen crushed beneath his awesome power and fury.

And neath the clammy overgrowth about the ruins, fleeting shadows winded away and to the south and west.

~*~

Kane sat in the ancient laboratory, studying a large bronze bowl that sat on the table before him. Swirling in the brown metal container, a strange liquid in which dim lights played and shadowy figures danced about. Seeming to come to a conclusion about the figures moving hither and yon within the bowl, he sat back in the chair and propped his boots up upon a stool. Taking a strange metal instrument from the table, he examined it closely, moving hinged arms and rotating joints on the device, then, with an oath, carelessly tossed it onto the floor.

Since coming to this plane some thousand years agone, Kane had traveled across the face of Mithgar, seeking the lost lore of its ancient civilizations, and many mysteries he had unearthed. Kane had ventured from forgotten oases in the deserts of the Karoo to the subterranean labyrinths beneath the Iron Tower in Gron. He had traded secrets with the Wizards of Xian, and the Dark Mages of the Fists of Rakka. He had traveled to the unknown east, sat with the Yogis and Buddas and wise men that dwelled on mountaintops in the clouds. He had conversed with great Drakes and Krakens and fathomed the secrets of the Great Maelstrom. He had spoken with Demons dire and jewel-eyed Giants that dwelt deep within the living stone itself. No lore was off-limits to his scrutiny and desires.

Yet at this moment, Kane brooded among the relics of a bygone age. Mysteries he could not fathom stared back at him, leering, daring him to discover the secrets of their devising. Strange instruments and machineries defied his wisdom, unknown artifacts powered by some strange fire that he could not comprehend or understand.

"Kane, the powerful wizard, Kane the all-knowing, Kane the almighty shall not be thwarted by these remnants of Eldar science," he said to himself. A deep gloom settled over this being that favored himself above all others. "If I but had a few hundred years to delve into his artifacts," he mused, "I could discover their uses and bend them to my will! But alas, it is not to be, for another being of power has come to this realm, MY REALM!" He looked again into the moving liquid of the scrying bowl that sat on the table before him. "I shall take care of this demon princeling that dares to invade the privacy of my place of study, then I shall return to these questions before me."

The red-haired giant doused the lanterns and tramped from the room, pausing to grab a cloak and a black, crystal-topped staff before setting his glyphs in place. These runes would trigger phantasms dire in case of intrusion, of course he expected no interlopers since his erstwhile rogues had spread stories of a great swamp demon rending their leader. Sparing one last glance to the far wall of his new lair, Kane strode out into the humid night.

Three shining sarcophagi stood against the far wall. Dust covered, yet beautiful. Traced about with runes they were, and set with glass at the head, wherein could be seen the faces of age-old sorcerers. Yet these wise men from the long-forgotten past were not dead, their bodies still held life, somehow held in state of sleep for untold millennia. This was the greatest mystery of Kane's desires, for he had yet to waken the sleeping occupants of these shining caskets.

~*~

Fjorn sat, arms wrapped around knees, gazing northwesterly into the nighttime sky. Brow furrowed, he was deeply troubled, for he could sense that great evil had come unto Mithgar. Even the groaning stones had rumbled of beings dire.

"Well, Rust," he said, ruffling the head of the red fox that sat next to him, "what do you think? How feel you about a journey, neh?"

The fox turned his head to the side, questioning, moonlight reflecting from his black eyes.

"Yes, I see that you would not leave your bitch and pup behind. I, too, do not desire to be parted from my love, yet some great evil has arisen upon Mithgar, and we must answer the call."

The fox looked back into the woods, whining.

"Fear not, Rust," continued Fjorn. "We shall not leave till we have bid our loved ones farewell. Yet I deem we should be on our way on the morrow."

The fox nodded then looked knowingly into the dark woods.

Known as Foxworthy among the Fey, the Hidden Ones, Fjorn warded the eastern boundaries of the Great Greenhall, north of what the Baeron named the Clearing. His dame, Alyssa, also rode with him on his rounds, yet tonight she was not present. She had gone to witness the birth of a new pup, a new friend.

With a long sigh, Fjorn stood. Gathering his bow and arrows, he mounted Rust and disappeared into the darkness of the Greatwood.


	6. Departure

****

Chapter Six

Departure. Peril Draws Nigh.

High atop a peak in the Rigga Mountains, a great snow owl took to wing as the first vestiges of sunlight crested o'er the mountain range; tufts of snow cascading down though the limbs as it did so. And, down in the heart of Arden Vale, Elves gathered around as Duron called all to council. Among the many gathered Lian, therein were seen four Dylvana, two Baeron, and three Warrows; these having been intercepted upon the open wold by the Lian messengers and thus altering their course to trek to the Elvenholt; any plans gleaned from the war council to be carried back unto their own. And high above the Vale, the great white owl flew on to its nest, the concerns of those below playing nought upon its own.

"My friends," Duron called out as to be heard by all, "dark times have come upon Mithgar yet again. A terrible foe has befouled our fair land and, I deem, bodes ill for all thereon."

The Baeron, Dylvana, and Warrows looked about with questioning looks upon their faces; they knowing nought of the evil now roaming the land; they knowing only that peril now gripped the land.

"This great evil, this Braxus as Glaven so names him, that now threatens all has gone to ground, and we know not his whereabouts. So this I would ask of all: Go forth unto the land and help search out this foe. Those of ye from other areas, journey back unto thy lands and ask all able therein to do likewise."

And with understanding nods from all the Lian in the council, and few words, all disassembled and went to prepare for the hunt.

Now, the three groups of newcomers seeking more information as to the nature of the beast and being told all, made ready to ride in search of the beast, too, to travel back unto their own lands and spread the news of the vileness now stalking the land.

As Kaje and Faedra returned to their cabin, they spoke of the days to come and the unknown possibilities of events yet to occur:

"How long dost thou think we shall search ere finding the beast and his minions?" asked Faedra.

"Ah, my Dara, I know not. Yet the sooner found, the sooner smote. For I would return unto the carefree days we once shared. But, still I deem, we must face this foe and see an end to him ere Mithgar suffers under his foul oppression."

Then, placing an arm about her shoulders, Kaje said to the Dara, "Let us ride with Vanidor and Kaelea. For we have fought side by side with them in the past, and I would have them by my side during battle."

Faedra canted her head in agreement as they walked on to their cabin. And, far to the west, now past Crestan Pass and nearing the Argon, a small, shadow wrapped being sped onward toward the Greatwood and his home therein.

~*~

Kaje and Faedra returned to their cottage, where they began gathering their gear and carefully placing it within their packs. Faedra was singing an uplifting Elven song. Kaje, across the room, was rather silent, his mind lost in thought.

After Faedra packed an extra set of clothes, the last of her gear, she turned and found her _chier _with his hands on hips, head and eyes roving about the room. He let out an aggravated sigh and ran his fingers through his blond hair.

"What is it, _chier_? What doth thou seek?"

A half-smile formed upon his lips as he replied, "My heart, _chieran_. It is hopelessly lost to a particular fair Dara."

A large smile beamed upon Faedra's face. She walked over to Kaje and gently wrapped her arms about his body, her hands rubbing his back. Her eyes found his and became totally lost, overtaken by the tenderness, care, and strength therein. She now grasped his shoulders and reached up to passionately kiss him. Her heart began to race, and her soul reached out to touch his. At length, her lips disengaged his, their spirits parting, and she now gently cupped his handsome face in her hands, her eyes once again taking the soothing journey into his breathtaking gaze. "Alas, she told me that thou cannot have it back. But fear not, for she shall ever guard it with her life, being, spirit, and soul. Thy heart is not lost." Faedra reached down and took Kaje's hand in hers and placed it upon her left breast. "There it shall ever reside."

Kaje bent down and kissed her, his hand still upon her heart. "Ah, it is indeed there. So, now that thou hast discovered the location of my heart, perhaps thou can tell me where our waterskins are."

Faedra could not help but laugh at such a change in subject. "Mayhap Vanidor and Kaelea yet have them. Recall, they borrowed them not too long ago."

Kaje replied, "Indeed. I shall pay them a visit."

He walked out of the cottage, yet smiling, and Faedra was left alone with her thoughts, which soon began to take her back to the glen when she had felt that unspeakable evil consume her very being, and she shuddered.

Taking advantage of the time to herself, Faedra decided to take a small tour of places nearby in the Vale that she loved and visited frequently. For who knew? Her homeland could be changed forever by this dire peril. She could be changed forever by this dire peril, as it could maim or slay her or someone whose heart beat inside hers.

Therefore, leaving everything at the cottage, Faedra went to the stable and saddled her Palomino, the great golden horse seeming eager to be away from his stall as he pawed the ground. Quickly, she mounted up and rode out into the forest. It was a rather windy day, and her steed's thick white mane and tail whipped about.

Soon, they came upon a small stream, a willow tree rooted near the water's edge. "Ah, tis the spot that has consumed much of my time as it has provided me a place in which I may think or merely relax as I choose."

The horse's ears flicked back as they caught the sound of Faedra's voice.

She dismounted, and the horse nuzzled her. "Aye, go graze upon the grass."

As the horse wandered not too far away and began cropping the lush grass, Faedra knelt at the stream's edge near the willow tree and gazed into the clear water. She reached cupped hands into the cool liquid and, raising them to her lips, drank and became refreshed.

After spending a short time at the stream, she whistled softly, and the golden steed came at her call. "Let us be away from here. We have a mission to undertake." Quickly, they made their way back to the cottage.

~*~

Nigh noon, on the day of the war council, several Elven warriors rode out of Vale's Heart and headed off in different directions. Among these rode Vanidor, Kaelea, Faedra, and Kaje; these to fare on toward the Crossland Road and then on into Rhone.

As they traveled this day, little was said though thoughts ran deep. Some were pondering the whereabouts of the Fell Beast, Braxus; others were remembering times past and the tasks they faced as they pursued Dantor and the Dark Weapons. As the four rode ever south through the Vale, the setting sun saw the group some five leagues north of the Hidden Entrance leading into the Vale. And with the setting sun, the four made camp, none standing ward for they were yet in the protected bounds of Arden.

Breaking camp and preparing for the day's travel, the group talked on their plans of pursuit; these plans having been arranged with Duron and Glaven; these two to remain behind in Arden and await word of Braxus's location. And, so, the rising sun saw the four riding for the hidden and warded entrance into Arden, their demeanor resolute, their thoughts consumed by the vision of the foul beast, and in some small way, their spirits were high for they once again quested for the good of all Mithgar.

Reaching the hidden grot of the Vale, the four were waved through by Lian guardians warding the way; these invisible to the four as they approached yet espied whence they made themselves visible. On through the warded way the four went and soon came unto the Crossland Road. Now, having gained the well-traveled way, the four turned westerly and rode onward as the sun reached its zenith.

As the sun began to set in the western sky, the group moved off of the road a ways and set camp. All sat about the small fire, taking a meager meal of tea and crue as the amber-hued sky turned to night. Millions of stars now shone down on the small group as Kaelea, Faedra, and Vanidor settled into their bedrolls while Kaje stood the first watch, one of his slender blades standing upright from a nearby stump, the jade dragon with ruby eyes ever ready to warn of nearing peril. And, some leagues away, several foul beasts roamed the land; these yet of a range as to not set off the jade dragon, yet onward they came; their present course leading them straight to the group's camp.


	7. Battle Upon the Rhone

****

Chapter Seven

Battle Upon the Rhone

Not far from where the group was camped, a young girl sat alone in a camp. This girl was sitting quietly, thinking. She knew that she was near Arden Vale, and that made her think of a story she had heard: a story that had been handed down through generations in her family.

As she sat thinking, the girl reached up and touched a necklace she wore. This necklace was in the shape of a rose. It had been handed down in her family for many generations as a symbol of hope, or some such thing. The girl took comfort from touching it, since it was all she had of her family.

She felt uneasy this night, almost afraid. This fear caused her to leave her camp and see what she could find.

After she had walked awhile, she found another campsite. Stepping closer, she could see that there were four people in it. She could not make out any details, but she thought that they might be Elves.

The girl stepped into sight of anyone in the camp who might see her. She noticed that there was one who was on watch, and she addressed that one. "Hello, my name is Julina. I am not from these parts, but I have been traveling here and noticed something seems to be going on. Is there anyway I can help?"

~*~

While the others in the camp made themselves comfortable, Kaje, having set one of his swords out as a silent sentinel, moved to a nearby tree. Taking a seat beneath the eld oak tree, Kaje settled in for the next few hours of watch. And, as the moon hove into view over the eastern horizon, the yellow disk seeming four times its normal size, all were asleep in the small camp save one.

Gazing out into the open field before him, Kaje heard the faint sound of movement off to his left. Rousing himself from his light-sleep-meditative state, he was just beginning to rise when, from away to his left, someone spoke!

"Hello, my name is Julina. I am not from these parts, but I am traveling here, and have noticed that something seems to going on. Is there anyway I can help?"

Now, having drawn the other sword from the sheath at his back, Kaje looked upon the young girl standing on the verge of the surrounding growth and lowered his sword. "Hello to thee," said Kaje, a questioning look upon his face. "Thou hast named thyself Julina, neh?"

The girl nodded.

Kaje sheathed his sword and stepped toward the young girl. "Art thou alone in thy travels?"

"Yes, I am. I was camped some ways from here and approached as night fell, for it was then that I saw your campfire. I was hoping that, since I was near Arden Vale, you were Elven, and it appears that you are."

"Yes, we are Elven. And thou art lucky we are so, else thee may even now be impaled with a Ruchen spear or other such."

As he spoke, Kaje heard the others stirring behind him. Looking from the young girl and to the ones behind himself, he noted that Vanidor was even now rising, as was Faedra. Kaelea, as it were, yet slept as she oft did. And, turning back to the girl, Kaje began with the introductions.

"Julina, these are my friends," he said as Vanidor and Faedra approached. "This is Vanidor Silverbranch; Lian Guardian and warder of Arden," Kaje said, canting his head toward the Elven warrior. Then, looking toward the Dara as she approached, Kaje extended an arm toward her, she to walk toward it and then become embraced by it, as he said, "And this is Dara Faedra. The one that hast stolen mine heart and now holds it safe within her own," Kaje said as he bent his head down and gently kissed the Dara.

Now, looking toward the girl, Kaje realized that he had not introduced himself and proceeded to do so, "And thou may call me Kaje. We welcome thee to our camp, and we shall off . . ."

Then, off a sudden, at his side, Faedra quickly jerked up her braceleted arm and hissed, "Hssst. The bracelet grows warm, _chier_. Check thy sword."

And, quickly drawing the sword from his back, Kaje looked upon the jade dragon and saw that its ruby eyes shone with a faint glow; a glow that was even now growing brighter.

"Wake Kaelea," Kaje said, even as Vanidor spun on his heel and headed toward her. Turning toward Julina again, Kaje asked her, "Have thee any weapons or skills with such?"

"I have some experience with the sword and bow. Though I am at my best with the sword, I am quite proficient with a bow."

"Have thee either?" asked Kaje.

And, drawing a medium length sword from a scabbard at her back, Julina nodded even as she brandished the small, yet fierce-looking blade. "I shall use this for now. Should my bow be needed, it is at hand," Julina said as she patted the string crossing over her chest.

"Well and good, yet should the foe be many, stay close to one of us. Do not stray from the group for thou wouldst make a most easy target then," Kaje said as he stepped toward the small fire and spread the coals. And, taking up the small tea kettle, he poured the remainder of the tea over the coals; the cherry red embers to hiss and steam as they were extinguished.

And onward still came the curs of Braxus; these the fell beasts of his other realm of power, these the hunters and seekers he had intrusted to survey the land and report on all its inhabitants and to lay waste to any that stood in their way. These that cared not what they faced, for they knew not the meaning of the word fear. And on they came, running full tilt, for they had espied the small blaze of the camp and even now, they scented those within. Now, raising muzzles from the ground and howling, the beasts hurtled across the open wold of Rhone and on toward their prey.

"Stand ready all," said Kaje. "My dragons glow brighter and brighter with each breath. I deem the foe moves swiftly and shall soon be upon . . ."

And, ere he could finish, the first of the beasts flew into the camp; all therein to be taken by surprise, for none among them had ever seen a beast with such speed and agility. For, after all, the first beast into the camp had leapt from one side of the clearing to the other; the camp being on the far side of the clearing, and this being a span of some sixty feet.

And into the camp the beasts boiled. The sum total of the attackers numbered twelve afoot and, as of yet unseen, three aloft; these drifting in over the melee upon leathery wings and then circling high above as if waiting for any to break from the group; for should any but the attackers bolt, they would surely be easy prey.

And so, steel flashed into furry flesh. Sharp, jagged teeth tore at exposed flesh. And the attack was then full upon all. Blades flashing in the now silvery moonlight. Yellowed, slathering teeth champing in the hot night air. And, amid the Elves, all now standing in the small circle and facing outward to engage the foe, a young girl stood, silver sword now sheathed, a small Elven bow now at hand, deadly shafts flying away into the attacking beasts. And still, overhead, yellow, glaring eyes glided about the skies and awaited their chance to feed; while below their comrades were hewn down by sword and felled by well-aimed arrow.

Standing to the left of Kaelea and to the right of the young girl, Vanidor used his gigantic sword to slice and stab through the vicious, tough flesh of the enemy. Spotting the leathery winged animals hovering over them, he noted that silently while stabbing deeply into the large beast in front of him. Pulling his sword out, he yelled out, not wanting to give the beasts any slack, "Kaje! We must make a box around Julina! Her bow must reach the beasts flying above!"

His words were barely heard over the howling screams of evil all around them, but Kaje nodded quickly, the young girl understanding as well. Before the four were even covered around her, deadly arrows were loosed upon those in the air, felling the small and large beasts.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the battle was over. Vanidor had taken a bite from one of the larger beasts as he had attacked it. From loss of blood, or some vileness in the bite, Vanidor passed out, falling down right after cleaning his blade.

~*~

Faedra was apprehensive when the beasts first entered the camp because there were so many. How could the group possibly defeat all these beasts?

But then, anger took her, and she swung her blade with deadly accuracy and fury. One beast fell victim to the bite of her cold steel, and she turned to engage another who quickly took the place of the slain one.

As Faedra turned her attention to her new foe and raised her sword in readiness, teeth from another beast which had snuck up behind her latched onto her right wrist. She struggled, but could not free her hand, as the beast's jaws were like iron and had a firm grip. With one yank, the beast brought Faedra down to the ground and began dragging her away from her companions. The other one then pounced on her and sank his sharp fangs into her left side.

The added weight of the second Wolf-like creature caused the other one to have to sink his teeth futher into Faedra's wrist to get a better grip. As the beast continued to pull, Faedra felt her skin tearing away and teeth grating on bone.

Finally, with great effort, she was able to bring her sword up and drive it deeply into the eye of the beast upon her side. Kicking that one off, Faedra struggled to her knees. The remaining animal released her hand and, as he did so, Galador's bracelet was ripped off and fell to the ground along with some of Faedra's flesh. As she looked into the thing's evil, yellow eyes, Faedra could see what was coming and placed her sword at the ready. With great relief, she watched as the beast impaled itself.

Breathing heavily with fear and anxiety, Faedra removed her blade from the beast, placed Galador's bracelet back on her wrist, and turned about to see that all of her companions had slain their foes. Not feeling anything and not bothering to check her wounds, she walked swiftly to Kaje, who was cleaning his blade. With concern in her eyes, she looked him up and down, searching for any injuries. "_Chier_, art thou scathed?" Then, she saw Vanidor's fallen form and gasped. Without looking back at Kaje, Faedra whispered, "Tell me that he is not slain."


	8. Aftermath

****

Chapter Eight

Aftermath. Caring for the Wounded.

Hearing the Dara's words as she approached, Kaje turned to answer her question as to his well being, only to notice that she was wounded. Yet, ere he could ask after her wounds, the Dara spoke once more, drawing Kaje's attention away from her and toward another . . . Vanidor.

Now, striding to the fallen warrior's side, Faedra and Kaje knelt beside their friend even as Kaelea moved to search for wounds upon her beloved. And, as Kaelea did so, Kaje, standing and turning, ran to retrieve a medic's bag from one of his saddlebags. After some digging in the small bag, Kaje, having found the desired pouch, stood to return to his fallen friend.

As he turned to walk back to the fallen warrior, he noticed movement upon the ground between himself and the others. Peering through the darkness, Kaje saw what had drawn his attention; one of the winged beasts yet lived and now lay upon the ground facing him, hideous, fang-filled mouth agape, breath wheezing in and out across the slathered teeth, vile intent burning in its yellow eyes.

Standing and looking down at the vile creature before him, Kaje looked up to find Faedra and Kaelea yet tending to Vanidor; they in no immediate danger of attack from the beast. Scanning the surrounding area as best he could, Kaje noted no other beast moving among the slain and so, turned his attention to the beast before him now.

The creature, its body the size of a small Warrow, its wing span some twelve feet, pulled itself across the ground with grasping hands set mid-way along the fore of its wings. From the creature's torso, an arrow stood forth; the whole of the shaft, save six inches, having been plunged through the creature's body as it slammed into the ground. And, looking up the Elf through blazing yellow eyes, the beast snapped at Kaje's feet with its curved, befanged beak; the teeth gnashing together as it did so, blood just now beginning to run from one corner of its mouth.

Now, calling to Faedra and gaining her attention, she to gasp at the sight of the winged beast now stalking her _chier_, Kaje tossed her the small medic's bag and, at the same time, drew one of his swords with the other hand; the beast never seeing the blade drawn as it watched the small bag fly over its head and on past. The creature, turning back toward its intended prey, had but a mere chance to glimpse its victim ere its head was removed by Ryodian steel; the blade cleaving into and through the creature's neck, sparks sent to fly as it struck stone in the ground below, the blade set to ring from the impact.

Wiping the dark grume from his blade and then sheathing the weapon, Kaje continued on toward Vanidor. As he hurried back to the warrior, Kaje saw that Julina now moved among the carnage; the young girl retrieving arrows from the beasts she had slain. And, with myriad questions about the newcomer swirling in his head, Kaje first stepped to Faedra's side to ascertain Vanidor's condition as well as hers. And, finding Vanidor yet unconscious but in the capable hands of Kaelea and Faedra, the latter now brewing gwynthyme tea and tending to her own injuries, Kaje stepped to the Dara's side and asked her about her wounds.

"_Chier_, thou art wounded?"

"Nay, tis but a minor wound. Nothing a little gwynthyme shant cure," said Faedra, a forced smile upon her face.

"Here, at least let me help thee with thy bindings," said Kaje.

The Dara waved a negating hand at the offering. "I am fine, _chier_," said Faedra as she extended a small hand and placed it upon the side of Kaje's face. "Kaelea and I shall see to Vanidor. Perhaps thou should check upon Julina."

At the Dara's words, Kaje, clasping the hand upon his cheek with his own hand, nodded then kissed his love upon the cheek ere turning to walk toward the young girl.

Walking toward Julina, Kaje looked for any movement among the beasts lying in the camp; any yet suspected of being alive were beheaded, dark blood set to flow over the green grass, nauseous vapors set to drift about the air.

And, approaching the girl, Kaje spoke. "I must say thou art quite the marksman with thy bow."

Julina, now looking up from her grisly task and to the Elf, a number of blood-covered arrows clutched in her left hand, a freshly drawn bolt in her right, said, "As I said before, I have had some training with the bow. Though my weapon of choice is the sword, I can fend for myself with the bow as well."

"And quite well I would say," said Kaje. And, looking at the bow slung across the girl's chest, he noticed the weapon looked somewhat familiar. Stepping closer to the girl, Kaje said, "Thy bow," as he gestured toward the weapon.

"What of it?" asked Julina, unslinging the weapon as she spoke.

"It looks somewhat familiar. Whence did it come?" asked Kaje; he looked upon the weapon and remembering events from long ago, remembering crafting just such a weapon in a distant glade, too, remembering the small child that wielded just such a weapon; and yet he wondered as to the weapon's origin as he awaited her response.

"It belonged to one of my ancestors," Julina said. "Her name was Cordelia. She and her cousin, Kriston, along with several other people, defeated a Dark Mage. According to the legend in my family, Cordelia and her cousin did so, by using their bows to shoot silver arrows into some fire. I don't know much more of the story than that."

"I know that tale well, as well as the bow that is in thine hands," said Kaje as he reached out a hand to take the bow. And, turning the weapon over in his hands, Kaje looked back to Julina to see a questioning look upon her face.

"This bow," Kaje said, holding up the bow, "was crafted long ago in a small glen west of Crestan Pass. I constructed this one and another just like it for Cordelia and Kriston. And, it would appear that my craftmanship has withstood the ages." Handing the small bow back to Julina, Kaje continued, "I will tell thee the whole of the tale after we have seen to Vanidor's, as well as Faedra's, well-being."

Then, looking at the young girl for a moment more, Kaje said, "There is yet some resemblance to thine ancestors within thy features. But for now, let us go back to the camp." And, smiling at the young girl, Kaje turned and walked back to the campfire, followed by Julina.

~*~

As Kaje was away speaking with Julina, Faedra aided Kaelea with Vanidor's wounds. Soon, they had done all they could, and Faedra sat on the ground. She was surprisingly weary. "Kaelea, dost thou need my assistance further," Faedra said in a weak voice.

"Nay, Faedra, I can handle it from here."

Faedra nodded and smiled at Kaelea. "He will be fine." Rising with effort and dragging her feet, Faedra went to pick up a cup of tea.

Spying a rather large tree outside of camp, she made her way over and sat against its large trunk. It had been a while since she had been in battle, and her body was weary to the bone. Faedra reached up a hand to rub her eyes and noticed Galador's bracelet. _That beast had BETTER NOT have scratched it up_, she thought. Upon examining it further, she found no damage done to her precious piece of jewelry, and she sighed in relief.

That was Faedra's last conscious act before falling into a deep slumber, her feet outstretched before her, her hands in her lap, the left one loosely grasping an empty cup, the right one cradled by her left arm, its bandages stained with blood as well as the binding about her left side.

~*~

As he approached Vanidor and Kaelea, Kaje noticed that all of the wounds Vanidor had sustained were now bound, the bleeding stopped. And kneeling beside Kaelea, Kaje asked, "How doth he fare?"

Turning to look toward Kaje, Kaelea, with a look of worry and grief upon her face, shook her head as she answered, "His wounds are now bound and bleed no longer, yet he has not regained consciousness."

"Mayhap he needs only to rest, for I deem a goodly amount of blood was lost," Kaje said as he looked at Vanidor. Then, turning to look once more at Kaelea, he asked, "Hast thou given him gwynthyme?"

Kaelea merely nodded as a tear rolled down her cheek; her lithe frame becoming wracked with sorrow for there was nought else she could do for her beloved.

And, noticing the Dara's grief, Kaje placed an arm about her shoulders and, hugging her firmly to his side, said, "Fear not for Vanidor, for he is strong of spirit and shall win through. Of this I have no doubt, as should thee." Then, smiling at the Dara, Kaje released her and began to rise, looking about for Faedra as he did so.

"Now, I would see to mine own love," said Kaje.

"She is yon," said Kaelea, her voice sounding tired and weary, as she motioned to the tree that Faedra now sat beneath.

"Ah yes," said Kaje, now looking back to Kaelea and giving her a reassuring smile. "Fear not for thy love. His body needs to rest and replenish itself. And, as to the gwynthyme, I would continue its use, for we know nought of these foul beast that attacked us, or if their bite is akin to that of Vulgs."

Then, smiling once more at Kaelea, he turned and walked to the tree that Faedra now rested against. And, stepping to her side and kneeling, Kaje reached out a hand and caressed the Dara's cheek, yet she did not respond to his touch.

Taking Faedra's face in both hands, Kaje lightly patted her cheek with one hand; this yielding no response. Now, reaching down and taking one of her hands, he noticed a nasty bite upon it, the wound tightly bound and no longer bleeding. And, fearing there may be other wounds, Kaje lifted the blanket laying atop the Dara to only find his worst thoughts confirmed.

"_Chieran_!" gasped Kaje even as he moved her from the tree and laid her to the ground. And, opening the bloodied tunic, he inspected the wound; the left side of the torso just above the hip shredded as if from so many razors, blood just now clotting, flesh rent from a lower rib, the bone exposed to open air. And Kaje wept at the sight of his beloved as she lay in this state.

Standing and running to the campfire, he hastily poured a cup of the herbal tea. Then, turning and trotting back to Faedra, Kaje prayed to Adon for the safety of his love. Now, arriving at her side, Kaje knelt beside Faedra and began pouring small amounts of the gwynthyme tea into her mouth; she swallowing reflexively. And still he wept.

Once the cup was emptied, Kaje stood and hurried to his pack. And, digging around inside of it, he withdrew a smaller pouch. From this he took a needle and length of gut. Then, hurrying back to the Dara's side, Kaje sat upon the ground and began to stitch the wound in her side closed. Working carefully, he slowly mended the wound as best he could; needle moving through flesh, gut being pulled tight, flesh drawn together. And, as he worked, for the Dara's unconscious state, Kaje was now glad.

Now, having finished closing the wound and dressing it with a length of linen, Kaje once again filled a cup with tea and administered it to Faedra; the Dara yet unconscious, the Alor's concern still great. And, as he offered the tea to his beloved, Kaje once again prayed to Adon for the well-being of his beloved.

~*~

Kaelea sat beside Vanidor's unconscious form. It was late in the night, and there was deep grief and weariness etched in her eyes that were also sore from much crying. As she looked over him once more, from the bite wound to his unnaturally pale face, a tear fell. Just days ago, no hours ago, he was vigorous and healthy and holding her in his arms. Memories flooded her mind, causing her heart to cry out in pain and yet more tears to fall. She reached down and brushed a few strands of hair from his face. She gazed at that face, the kindest, most loving face she'd ever known.

"Please live!" she moaned and collapsed into sobs.

Suddenly she felt a light hand upon her shoulder. She looked up to see Kaje smiling a smile that was for comfort alone. She got to her feet and threw her arms around him, sobbing anew and mumbling words he could not make out.

"There, there, Kaelea." He patted her on the back. "Vanidor is strong. I am certain he will be alright."

"But he's everything to me," she cried.

"As Faedra is to me," he comforted.

"I've yet to tell him so much."

"He knows, Kaelea. And thou wilt get a chance to tell him. He will live. Have faith, Dara."

She stepped away and nodded. "Yes, faith." She wiped her eyes. "I am sorry."

"Do not be sorry for thy tears." He looked at her kindly. Then, seeing her eyes, the kindness turned to concern. "How long hast thou been without sleep?"

"Since he fell."

Kaje put his hand upon her shoulder. "Sleep, Kaelea. Thou wilt need strength when he awakens." He smiled, a true smile this time.

Kaelea returned it with one of her own. Kaje left, and she sat beside Vanidor once more. Hours passed, and Kaelea allowed herself to lay beside him. She fell asleep with her head on his chest, his heartbeat her only comfort. In the stage between sleep and awareness, she whispered, "I love you, _chier_."

~*~

Faedra's eyes fluttered open, and she gazed at the tree branches above her, the limbs forming crisscross patterns across the dark night sky. Kaje was sitting against the tree, legs outstretched in front of him. Faedra's head lay across his thighs, his right arm beneath her head, his left across her stomach. Faedra lifted and turned her head slightly to see that he was dozing. Suddenly, she coughed, causing her to gasp as sudden and excruciating pain came from her side. She reached down to find a bandage, through which her fingers felt a long row of stitches. She placed her hand over Kaje's across her stomach and then once again fell in darkness as he stirred.


	9. Elsewhere

****

Chapter Nine

Elsewhere

Skulking among the docks and ghettos of Kistan, Kane had no fear, for those thieves and highwaymen who rose from the shadows at his approach quickly sheathed their knives and daggers when they beheld his person. He had frequented the brothels and slums of Kistan for many a year, and all knew him or knew of him, the smart ones steering clear of his path. Stories of this fiery-haired, blue-eyed warrior-Mage abounded. It was even rumored that he had trod the face of Mithgar for a thousand years, having come from the very pits of Hel and beyond. Some said he had been slain, rent asunder by a demon of the swamp or some such. Some claimed that he was the spawn of a Fiend himself.

Whatever the truths of his lineage, Kane stayed to his own devices unless provoked. Still, he had become infamous on the isle of the Rovers of Kistan. Among the inns and pubs of the pirate island, a song could even be heard of the man himself.

__

One darkened night a stranger came

Amidst the icy, pounding rain

Striding down the corpse strewn lane

I feared to know his name

Hair and beard a crimson mane

Eyes a spark of ice blue flame

Life and death a bloody game

His laugh a sane man's bane

Yet underneath a howling pain

A dark and age-old stain

That flows in every vein

The stranger's name was Kane

Why did he now tread the streets of this harbor? Kane desired a ship and a crew to man it. His destination? Hile Bay in Pellar.

~*~

Early the next morn, fog still rising from among the dense forest, the Pysk known as Foxworthy and his friend, Rust, again gazed westward across the plains. After adjusting the bow and pack across his back and leaping astride his companion, Fjorn gathered shadows about himself and the twain began their journey into the morning mists.

Westward they fared, across the wide expanse of Riamon, striking for Eryn Ford and Darda Erynian beyond.

~*~

East of Arden Vale, a lone Lian dismounted at a small brook to break his fast and water his winded steed. Drawing forth a packet from his rucksack, he unfolded it, revealing five pieces of Elven waybread. As he savored the nutty flavor of the _mian_, he gazed about at his surroundings, smiling at the sheer beauty of it all. To the south could be seen the four great crags of the Quadran, rising high into a the clear, crisp air above Drimmen-deeve itself. Aravan marveled at the magnificence of their lofty spires, Stormhelm rising above all.

Aravan shifted his gaze slightly to the east and south of the Chakka-holt, where grew the great Eldwood trees of Darda Galion, twilight gathered beneath their soothing boughs. He longed to tread the soft loam of the Larkenwald, feel the caress of their leaves upon his face. Aravan let out a long sigh. Soon he would come unto that realm of Eld trees and rest among his fellow Lian.

Remounting, he spurred his fiery steed toward the south and east, toward the Quadrill and his place of rest, a much-needed rest.

~*~

Foxworthy had traveled long and hard, crossing the river known as the Rissinan and through the woods beyond. Fjorn had then turned toward the great crags of the Quadran, following the feeling of menace that he felt in that direction. At camp each night, he fletched little arrows, straight and true. Arrows that he would possibly need before journey's end. Then, yawning a deep sigh, and setting his quiver aside, he curled up with his friend, Rust, the fox twining his fluffy red tail around his sleeping companion.

~*~

Aravan grinned to himself as he made camp. He was headed south-easterly, where in a few days time he would cross the River Rothro on into Darda Galion. From there he would travel to a cave that he knew of, high in the side of the Great Escarpment, water from the River Nith tumbling down over the entrance, downward into the Cauldron below. A serene place of rest it was; the sounds of the tumbling water, the coolness of the air and stone lending to the restfulness of the place.

After rubbing down the grey mare that served as his mount, Aravan fed the steed from the grain-bag that he kept for that purpose and then sat himself down cross-legged to his evening repast. One piece of mian stared back at him from the unwrapped cloth, and the cheese was starting to mold. Aravan sighed. Tomorrow he would have to hunt. Perhaps a coney or other small game would present itself as he rode on the morrow, else he would pause to track some squirrel or rabbit.

As he chewed the mian and cheese, taking a swallow from his waterskin, he noted a strange shadow crossing the moon. _What strange beast was that_, he thought to himself, _a Drake perhaps? It matters nought_, he thought, _for it was a great distance to the north_.

Settling down into his bedroll, Aravan soon lost himself in gentle memories of the past. He thought again of the peaceful little cave as he nodded off to sleep, trying not to dream the fitful and disturbing dreams that had plagued him since he left Arden Vale.

~*~

Rust perked up his ears and tilted his head to the side, his low whine drawing Foxworthy's attention. "What is it, Rust?" he questioned. "What do you hear?" The fox barked and nudged his friend, who was just breaking his fast. "Whoa, friend!" the Pysk said as the fox's continued prodding nigh tipped him over. "What is it, boy?" The fox continued his whining and with his nose indicated the north. "Well, Rust, I see you are in earnest. We shall eat later then." Stuffing his gear into his small knapsack, the Pysk grabbed his bow and leapt upon the back of his companion, calling out, "Hi-yo, Rust, lead on."

Over the hills and dales they sped, fox and Pysk, onward into the north, the rust-red fox panting with the exertion, some unknown call speeding him onward. After nigh half a league, Foxworthy cupped a hand to his ear; he could just hear the call that had until then been silent to his ears: a fox barking in distress.

As the twain neared the glade from which emanated the sounds of distress, Rust slowed, growling low in his throat. "Aye, I sense it too, friend," whispered Fjorn, "some dark beast nearby." Drawing his bow and nocking a poisoned Fey arrow, Foxworthy quietly slid from the back of Rust and crept forward through the bushes; Rust, crouching low, trailed after.

The stench of evil almost overpowered the Pysk as he looked down at the slain beast. Fell it was, leathery and batlike, with a wingspan of perhaps ten feet tip to tip. Black it was, resembling some of the winged Fey, yet dark-skinned, its mouth full of pointed fangs. Dead it was, crumpled where it had fallen, a Pysk arrow protruding from its throat.

Foxworthy continued through the underbrush, bow drawn to the full, ready to slay or be slain, a grim look upon his small face. Yet the scene that greeted him was not the one that he expected, for on the ground lay a slashed and bleeding female Fox Rider, trusty steed barking nearby.

The wounded Fey lay on her side on the dark-stained ground, a grey fox pacing nearby, and bent over the fallen Pysk, a man, nay an Elf, ministering unto her wounds.


	10. Returning to Arden

****

Chapter Ten

Returning to Arden

As the sun crept over the eastern horizon, Kaje arose from his resting spot, laying Faedra's head upon his rolled up cloak as he did, and moved about the camp, making ready to leave. As he did so, Julina approached him. "How are your friends faring this morning?"

"I deem they shall be fit to ride today," said Kaje.

"Fit to ride?" asked Julina, wondering as to her next path, too, wondering if she would be left to fend for herself with such vile beasts roaming the land. And, wondering if she would ever know her ancestors' tale. "So, you and your friends shall ride on today?"

Aye, today we shall ride. Yet our path shall be back unto Arden Vale and on to Vale's Heart. Therein we shall find healers better suited to the task of healing than I."

Then, as Kaje was fastening his supplies to his horse, he stopped and looked at the young girl. "I would that thou ride with us. Too, as we ride I shall tell the tale of Dantor and the weapons of darkness.

Julina, a broad smile coming to her face, nodded and eagerly accepted the invitation to ride with the Elves for there were many questions she would have answered; questions about Cordelia and Kriston, questions about the battle that had been fought, too, questions about the bow now in her possession.

And so, as Kaelea awoke, Vanidor and Faedra yet unconscious, she, Kaje, and Julina set about fashioning skids for the two wounded. As they worked, little was said for they wished to return to Arden and see their loved ones cared for in a proper fashion.

Having loaded Vanidor and Faedra onto the skids, Kaelea, Kaje, and Julina set off in an easterly direction. Riding through the day, stopping now and again to take a quick meal and see to the two being drawn behind, Kaje told Julina of the events concerning the battle with Dantor, Kaelea adding to the story where she could; her recount covering her first meeting with Dantor and the later deception of Aravan; too, she told of her leading the small group into Dantor's castle by way of the many hidden passages. And, as the sun sank into the western horizon, the small group entered into Arden Vale through, and under, the hidden grot.

Making camp just inside the bounds of the warded vale, Kaje and Kaelea saw to the wounds of their loved ones while Julina sat talking with a Lian Guardian; though he was taking a short break from his warding of the entrance into the Vale, another had taken his place.

Having eaten a quick meal, Kaje sat beside Faedra and tended to her wounds; removing soiled dressings and replacing them with new, clean dressings. And, as he did so, the Dara awoke for a brief moment, her face drawn, her eyes appearing yet weary.

"Oh, _chier_, how dost thou fare?" asked Faedra.

With a surprised look on his face, Kaje looked up from his work on her dressing as she spoke. "Ah, _chieran_, tis not I that is wounded, but thee." A broad smile came to his face as he spoke, and a hand moved to her face and cradled it softly. Then, reaching down and taking up a small cup of warm tea, Kaje administered the herbal brew to the Dara as he spoke: "How doth thou feel, my love?"

"I am yet tired, though I feel some better than when I last woke," Faedra said as she looked about. "Where are we, _chieran_? If I did not know better I would say we are in Arden."

"Aye, _chier_," Kaje said as he wiped Faedra's face with a damp rag. "In Arden we are. I felt it best that we returned to our home so that Vanidor and thee might receive care from those more suited to the task. And, just when did thou awaken? While we were riding?" asked Kaje, a querying look upon his face.

"Nay, not while we were riding. It was . . . well, it was last night. Yes, last night would be it, for I do not recall riding, only lying upon thy lap in the camp whence we were attacked." Then, looking around the small camp, Faedra asked, "How fares Vanidor?"

"He is yet unconscious though his heart sounds strong. I deem he will be better in time, though Kaelea is having a hard time of it." Then, looking from where Vanidor lay and back to Faedra, Kaje said, "I would have thee rest now, _chieran_. On the morrow we shall come to Vale's Heart and the healers therein." And, taking the empty cup from the Dara, Kaje pulled a wool blanket over Faedra's lithe form and then laid down beside her, both to soon fall into a much needed sleep; Kaje and Faedra laying to one side of the small campfire, Kaelea and Vanidor to the other, Julina, not being of Elven kind and having stood watch the night before then riding all day, slept as would the dead.

This night none in the camp stood watch for they were now within the protection of Lian of Arden; worthy warriors and valiant guardians all.

As dawn came upon the land the next day, Kaje, Kaelea, and Julina arose and prepared to make their leave from the entrance into Arden. Nigh riding on, Vanidor and Faedra were both given a cup of gwynthyme tea; this to help stave off any ill effects from the venom of their attackers if any yet coursed through their veins. And to these foul foe Kaje's mind ever returned; how fast they had been, how swiftly they did attack, how severe were the wounds they could afflict, and the venom from their bites, how wicked was its effects.

As Kaje poured the warm liquid into Faedra's mouth, the Dara opened her eyes and smiled up at him. "Good morning, _chieran_," said Faedra, a grimace coming to her face as she tried to adjust herself on the skid. "I trust thou did sleep well?"

"Aye, _chier_, I did," said Kaje as he leaned forward and kissed her. "How art thou feeling this morn?"

"I am feeling much better. Though the wound at my side yet causes pain, I believe I can ride."

"Well, if thou art up to it, then ride thee will," said Kaje as he helped the Dara to her feet; she trembling and wincing from the pain. And, looking at her with concern as if uncertain of her ability to ride, Kaje said, "I don't know, _chier_, thou seems yet weakened from thy wounds."

Holding an arm to her right side, the wounded side, Faedra reached out with her left hand, and, patting Kaje on the back, she said, "Nay, _chier_. I shall be fine." And, motioning to her horse, she continued: "Come, let us to our horses. For I would see Vale's Heart before the day is done."

Looking at the Dara and still wondering if this was the best thing for her to do, Kaje ceded to the Dara's words and helped her onto her horse; the Dara groaning from the pain at her side as she mounted the animal. Once she had gained the saddle, Faedra looked about the camp, a slight grimace coming to her face as she turned, and, seeing that all were ready to travel, Vanidor upon his skid, Kaelea, Julina, and Kaje upon their horses, she turned her horse about and headed off in a northerly direction as the others followed.

Nigh mid of day, the group stopped and took a meager meal of tea and crue, Faedra eating the mian ravenously for this was the first solid food she had eaten in two days. As she sat eating, Kaje walked over to where Vanidor lay upon the skid, Kaelea and Julina standing at his side. "How fares our friend?"

"He is some better, yet he still sleeps," said Kaelea, a touch of concern in her voice as she spoke.

"I have fresh bandages in my bags if his need to be changed," offered Kaje.

"Nay, Alor," said Kaelea. "His wounds are healing nicely and no longer bleed. Yet I shall be set at ease when he is seen by a true healer."

"As shall I with Faedra. Though I must say, she does seem a great deal better than before, I am still not sure if she should be riding. But, that is the way of a stubborn Elfess, nay?" Kaje said as he began to laugh, Kaelea and Julina laughing as well. Then, as he turned to look at Faedra, she still munching away on her biscuit with a curious look on her face at their laughter, Kaje laughed all the harder.

And, as all readied to ride once more, Kaje helped Faedra back onto her horse, she to once again take the lead, the others to once again follow. And on the group rode. Ever heading into the heart of Arden and their home therein.

Pulling alongside Faedra, Kaje reached out a hand and placed it on the Dara's shoulder as they rode. And, looking at her, she wincing with every step of the horse, Kaje said, "Thou hast set us upon an arduous pace, _chier_. I would see us home as fast as possible as well, yet I do worry for thy well-being."

"Fear not, _chier_. For I shall be fine. As for the pace I have set, I would see us to Vale's heart as soon as possible for Vanidor's sake. Though I am fine, he is yet unconscious, and I fear for his health."

"As am I love, yet I deem Vanidor will be fine, and I would not see thee brought to such pain when it is unwarranted." Faedra, bringing her horse to a halt, looked at Kaje as he spoke: "Please, _chier_, slow thy pace. We shall reach Vale's heart soon enough, and undue stress on thy wound shall only worsen it."

And, as she looked at Kaje, a smile slowly spreading across her face for the concern that he shared for her, she nodded to his request and once again they set out, though at a much slower pace than before.

The group rode throughout the rest of the day, reaching Vale's heart by nightfall. Once in the camp, healers were summoned to inspect the Elves' wounds. First seen was Vanidor, his wounds being of a more urgent nature, then Faedra, for she seemed no worse for the long, hard ride and seemed to move about with little pain. Now, Kaje and Faedra, having been assured that Vanidor's wounds were indeed better, left the healers' cabin and walked to their own. As they walked they spoke on the battle with the fell beasts that had attacked them, and on the days that lay ahead.

And after entering their cabin and changing into their nightclothes, they took to bed; Faedra to fall asleep immediately, her head upon Kaje's chest, his arms wrapped round her slender body.

~*~

Plagued by nightmares so intense and realistic to the point that Faedra thought her brain would explode, she shot straight up in the bed, her chest heaving, her breath labored and raspy. The effort caused an intense pain to shoot outward from her left side, and she gasped. Hoping her stitches were still intact, Faedra tentatively reached her hand down until she touched the long row of gut holding her skin together. The stitches didn't seem to have been affected by her sudden movement, but she couldn't tell for sure.

Suddenly, Kaje sat up as he was awakened by her start. He wrapped his arms around Faedra's trembling form. "_Chier_, what troubles thee?"

"More bad dreams, my love. Tis nothing." Faedra turned and placed her feet on the floor, wincing as she did so. Her wounds had healed considerably due to Kaje's tender care, but yet the sudden movement had caused her side to throb once again. Gingerly, she stood, holding her left side, and made her way over to a table that held a pitcher of water and a bowl. She poured a little of the cool, refreshing liquid into the bowl and dipped in a wash cloth. Wringing out the cloth, Faedra wiped her face clean of sweat and then returned to the bed. She laid down, and Kaje propped up on one elbow, looking down at her. She found his eyes in the darkness and gazed into them. "Those beasts, _chier_, they were so quick and cunning. I feel that the two that attacked me had planned their action. One drew my attention to it as the other grabbed my hand to drag me away." She held up her bandaged hand and gazed at it for a moment. "They were so agile and so . . . brutal."

Kaje nodded, "Indeed they were. I have yet to see any beast like them."

A short silence followed ere Faedra spoke again, "While recovering from my shoulder wound, I prayed I would not have to go through this again. This hurts! Ah, and I was concerned for thy health." At this, she began laughing and then reached up with lightning-quick reflexes to tickle her love in the ribs causing him to laugh and squirm ere grabbing her hand, staying her attack. The movement once again caused some pain, and she winced.

Kaje released her hand and reached down to caress her face and stroke her hair. "Fair Dara, thou wilt recover, and we shall set out once again in pursuit of these vile beasts."

Faedra sighed in response, "Set out once again, neh? Let us hope we get further this time."

Kaje chuckled, "Indeed."

And with that, Faedra fell once again in much-needed slumber with the aid of his soothing caress.


	11. Kane and Calling All Curs

****

Chapter Eleven

The Lady Luck. Kane. Calling All Curs.

The sloop _Lady Luck_ was only one day out of the harbor of North-Point, and already the crew was ready to turn back. Shortly after losing sight of the harbor, a strange wind had sprang up out of the south. A wind from the south was unheard of this time of year, yet the wind was there and had grown in strength throughout the day and into the night. Now gale-force winds threatened to swamp the ship itself. The rovers begged the captain to turn into land where they would have a chance of survival, yet the captain hesitated, for another strange thing was afoot aboard _the Lady Luck_.

Captain Paddock peered along the larboard rail to the unmoving figure standing atop the slender forecastle. This figure stood frozen, transfixed amidst the driving rain, peering out ahead through the mounting storm. What the figure gazed at, only he knew, yet he had stood for a day and night thus frozen, his black cloak flying back in the wind.

The captain knew who this stark figure was, but he had kept the name of this patron from his crew, showing them only the gold that was paid for passage. Now he feared to tell them. Feared for them to know that their passenger was the man known as Kane. Yet now his crew counseled him, nay, threatened him to toss this man overboard into the sea, for surely he was cursed. Had not this full gale sprung up because of him?

The captain looked aft at the knot of seamen that had armed themselves, readied themselves to surge forward and be rid of the cloaked stranger in the fore of the sloop, and then back toward the fore, at Kane. He would have no part in this, he had taken gold, and he feared the passenger himself. At this thought Captain Paddock nodded to the men on deck, and went below as the hook-nosed seamen padded forward, blades aglint in fading moonlight, toward the tall, cloaked figure atop the forecastle.

~*~

The helmeted lookout peered again through the fog. "There it is, I thought I saw a ship. See that strange glow? Interesting for a sloop to be passing into Hile Bay this late at night. See there, Derek, to the west, just past the rocks."

"Har, I sees it," his companion nodded. "I sees no sailors in the riggin', no one adeck, naught but a lone figure in the fore! Course I coulda be mistaken, what with the fog athick 'n' all."

"No, I didn't see anyone on the decks, either," the first soldier replied, the one with the steel helm. "Of course, they could all be abed." He scratched his head at the thought.

"Wull, then who is steering the boat," Derek replied, "with no one at the tiller?" He leaned far over the ramparts of Caer Pendwyr to have a better look. "WWARRGHHH!!!" Losing his footing on the mist slick stones, Derek spun and almost tumbled from the parapet, his quick thinking companion grabbing the sleeve of his jerkin and pulling him back to safety.

"Ha, that'll teach you, Derek," he said. "Watch your footing."

"Aarr, thanks, Kevin," Derek said, wiping his forehead. "Well, she's gone anow, lost in the fog. Strange one that, strange indeed."

~*~

The _Lady Luck_ continued its silent way across the bay toward the docks of Pendwyr, eerie wind blowing, and witch fire trailing through the rigging. No sailor trimmed the sails, no steersman manned the tiller, no hand called the soundings. Only two traveled on board this ship. One solitary black clocked figure, standing in the fore, and one ship's captain, hiding among the cargo, a gibbering madman.

~*~

Onward into the night rode the black-cloaked traveler on his dark, foam-flecked steed, clumps of turf flying out behind. League upon league of grassland lay behind and uncounted leagues spread out ahead, yet this dark rider never faltered in his journey. A week of hard riding to the north and west had led him from Hile Bay across Pellar to the River Argon and over onto the Plains of Valon. The grasslands he now crossed riding hard, the breath of his stallion forming small puffs of mist in the still nighttime air.

Steely blue eyes gazed steadily through the darkness, as the cadence of iron-shod hooves drummed into the night. Onward rode the dark rider, onward through the silent grasses of Valon, crimson hair flying out behind.

~*~

Kane stared out from the shadow of the great peaks of the Quadran, equine hooves aringing upon the hard granite of the pass that traversed these grim peaks. Kane had turned west as he had come to the Argon River at the northern most reaches of Valon, the Great Escarpment beginning its rise from the very hills at the edge of the Greatwood. Westward he traveled and westward, past the raging torrent of the Cauldron as Bellon Falls cascaded down from the heights.

Turning north at the Gunarring Mountains, he had crossed through Darda Galion. The forest of Eld trees gathering twilight as he rode through their low branches, hidden warders looking on.

Now across the greatest realm of the Chakka he rode, mile upon mile of delved passages below him. He would then turn northward, where lay the Tumble River and Drearwood, finally coming to the great swamp itself, the Gwasp.

~*~

The malevolent beast sat among the ruins of Cronthos as lightning lanced across the sky, twisting tendrils spreading out before the surge, thunder booming and echoing throughout the putrid humidity of the Gwasp. So far, only a few of the "scouts" Braxus set upon the land had returned from their searches. And, as he gleaned information of the outlying lands from his curs, Braxus became infuriated upon learning that some of his rovers had been felled by inhabitants of this plane.

Slamming one of his great fists onto the granite slab atop Cronthos's tomb, Braxus howled in rage the news, his voice reverberating throughout the small chamber, his curs scrambling out of the room. "Those paltry fools shall learn to respect and bow down before me! They shall writhe in pain as my vengeance is exacted upon them!" And, looking about the small chamber, his massive frame trembling with rage, Braxus continued: "Yes, they shall pay dearly for slaying my scouts. They shall pay for seeking to thwart my plans."

Walking to the open end of the tomb, Braxus reached out and pulled the silver sword from the corpse of Cronthos; the long dead Mage drawing in a raspy breath, the heavy, moist air filling the sunken chest. And, as life once again came unto the corpse, Cronthos sat up in the tomb; unseeing eyes covered with a grey film turning in their sockets, deteriorated retina registering nought.

"You have awoken me once again, blasphemer?" said Cronthos, the words more of a statement than a question. "What need have you of me? Surely one of your presumed greatness has no need for a Mage such as me?"

Seething in rage and loathing, Braxus, now holding the silver sword at the Mage's chest, the pure metal of the blade ready to plunge once again into the drawn flesh, tolerated the Mage's impudent remarks. "I need your sight of the in-between so that I may retrieve more scouts from my home plane." Then, raising the blade to the Mage's neck and leveling it off, he continued: "You will aid me in this task. If not, you shall spend eternity in death, your soul bound to this blade."

As if considering the beast's words, Cronthos sat silent a moment ere speaking. Then, turning his head to face the Evil One, he said, "Use me as you will. Though I have no knowledge of such castings, I shall aid as requested."

Without acknowledging the Mage's words, Braxus lowered the sword from Cronthos's neck and laid it on the granite slab. Stepping back away from the tomb, Braxus extended his arms out toward Cronthos, archaic words emitting from his mouth. "_Deme vista a el entre_!" (Give me sight into the in-between); the corpse form of Cronthos stiffening, head falling back, mouth falling agape, eyes, once filmed in grey, now turning ebon. And, in his mind's eye, Braxus was made to see through time and space, beyond the very realms of being, and on to his home plane.

As he gazed at the ravaged land now visible before him, he uttered another phrase_: "Traer a mi mi poseer_!" (Bring to me my own!); the corpse form of Cronthos now beginning to shake and jerk as Braxus focused his power through him. And, with his incantation, a swirling black maw opened over the tomb. From the swirling abyss came the howls and shrieks of hundreds of hideous beasts. Then, with a great blast of the aether, a long, swirling mass erupted from the black maw.

Out of the chamber and on into the mire of the swamp the swirling mass flew, boughs of trees whipping to and fro as the blast moved through them. And then, in the darkened, storm thrashed quag, a multitude of dire beasts materialized. Among these stood swarty, Vulg-like beasts; tall, upright beasts resembling Loka; winged raptor-like creatures; and huge, ogre-like beasts.

Back in the small chamber Braxus stood, arms outstretched, and uttered a few words of power, "_Cerca puerta grande_!" (Close portal!), and the swirling maw slammed shut, dust left to fly and eddy about the air as the blast from the maw ceased. Then, stepping back to the edge of the tomb and taking up the sword, Braxus, a malevolent sneer forming on his lips, slammed the blade into the corpse-form of Cronthos; the withered Mage shrieking as the blade gouged through him.

As the shrieking, withered corpse-form fell back into the tomb, Braxus strode from the small chamber, cloven hooves clicking on the stone floor, the sound becoming more evident as the wailing echoes of Cronthos diminished. Out of the chamber and onto the sodden rot of the Gwasp he went to stand before his beckoned beasts. And, looking at the vile creatures before him now, Braxus began issuing orders to the beasts; the main of the orders being to roam the land, ravage any that opposed them, pillage any structures, and most important of all, seek out the ones that had struck down his scouts and bring them back to stand before him.

Turning and walking back to the small chamber, the beat of leathery wings and bog-dampened tramp of feet sounding at his back, Braxus plotted his next move. Plans quickly contrived and then discarded as he walked. But, the one thing that stood out in his thoughts was the need to smote the ones, and any others like them, that had felled his scouts. For he knew that if but a few of these beings could bring down some twenty of his curs, as well as three of the four winged creatures fighting in the battle, he would have to deal with them first. Then, and only then, could he see his conquest fulfilled. Then, and only then, could he hold one more world under his will.


	12. Onward to Arden

****

Chapter Twelve

An Ill Tale. Onward to Arden.

And that, friend Aravan, is the tale I have to tell." The female Pysk, Faenwyn by name, leaned back upon the blanket, wincing, as she finished the tale.

Two Pysks and a Lian sat around the blazing fire, contemplating the meaning of the story, the tale of a beast named Braxus.

"The Gwasp you say?" said Aravan finally. "Evil place that. Dark beasts are known to dwell within its borders. Many folk who have come within its foul grasp have never returned."

The Pysks nodded at this, Foxworthy adding wood to the fire.

For a week Foxworthy and the Lian had tended the wounds of the wee Fey, bringing her back from the edge of death. If the Lian had not had the gwynthyme that Kaelea had given him as he left Arden Vale the Pysk would surely have died. Now she sat eating a meal, her first since Aravan had found her. A little worse for wear she was, yet hale considering the wounds she had received.

"I thank thee again friend Lian for the ministering of my wounds," Faenwyn said.

Aravan held out a negating hand, "Nay my little friend, thank thee for recovering."

The little Fey smiled at this, a small laugh escaping her lips, though she clutched her side as she did.

Foxworthy stirred the fire saying naught, a worried look upon his face.

"Had I not beheld the beast swooping from out of the sky and hurried to the place where it entered the trees I would not have found thee," Aravan stated, "yet the beast was already down, slain by fey arrow."

Faenwyn nodded, "Greybeard sensed it at the last moment and tossed me to the ground out of the path of the beast's talons." Faenwyn glanced at her grey coated fox, eyes widening at the memory of it all. "I skewered it through the throat yet it rent me in the side before it died."

Foxworthy finally sat down, a deep frown drawing down the sides of his mouth. "This beast isn't the last of them though, neh?" he said, handing Faenwyn another cup of broth. "You spoke of another larger fiend, and dire wolves also."

"Aye, Fjorn, many dire spawn there were at the eld tomb. We Fox Riders followed the demons when they flew overhead, for we knew they were not of Mithgar. I was headed back to the Darda, the Greatwood to warn our folk when this flying fiend attacked me."

The two fey looked into the fire trying to decide their course of action.

"From the south you say?" questioned Aravan.

Faenwyn nodded, blowing on the hot soup, steam rising upward.

"Perhaps it came from the Drearwood. That place held much evil in the days of yore, before the Purging." Turning up his hands, Aravan continued, "But who can tell. Yet this I deem, Fjorn can sense this evil. To the north we should go, first to Arden then onward to the Gwasp, find this beast and his minions and destroy them."

Faenwyn opened her mouth to speak but Aravan silenced her with a look. "My wee friend, thou should rest here till thy wounds heal sufficiently to allow thee to travel. Then homeward to the Greatwood thee should go, bringing this news to the folk there."

Faenwyn hung her head at this yet nodded to the wisdom of the Lian. Snuggling down into her bedroll, she soon fell asleep, Aravan and Foxworthy looking on.

At the edge of the clearing stood two foxes, one red, one a bearded grey, small black eyes reflecting the light of the fire.

~*~

Onward to Arden they rode, and onward. Pysk and Lian astride fox and steed. After many good-byes and fare thee wells, they finally saw Faenwyn and Greybeard on their way, homeward to the Greatwood to carry warnings dire to the folk there. Then, after breaking camp, the twain had set out to the west, up the Quadrill river and north of the four towering peaks of the realm of the Chakka, the Quadran.

For three days they traveled, the sky growing ever darker, the air ever cooler as they neared their destination, great dark clouds boiling across the sky. Even as they crossed the old Rell way, barely a league from the hidden entrance of the vale, the sky burst forth with torrents of rain, great booming thunder, _WHOOM_ and lightning tearing across the sky, _CRASH_.

Pulling cloaks tight against the chill and the driving downpour, the two galloped toward the river, Rust panting hard at the pace set by Aravan's mare. _BOOM_. Foxworthy could barely see his way through the sheets of rain that raged across the 'scape, yet Aravan led the way as if drawn by the Vale itself.

Even as they topped the rise that bordered the Tumble river and the waterfall that would lead them into Aravan's beloved Arden, his horse reared and hauled up short, Aravan jerking back on the reins. _WHOOM! BOOM!_

As Foxworthy came to a halt next to his friends skittish mount he started, for as the sky flashed brightly in the raging storm, he glimpsed before them a colossal horse, black as the night itself. Vapor rose from the flanks of the great steed and puffs of steam jetted from his flaring nostrils. Mounted on the ebony equine and silhouetted against the sky, a huge figure, unmoving as if in silent vigil, cloak flapping in the wind.

~*~

From beneath his close drawn cowl, Kane regarded the mounted figure before him. Having detected the nature of the approaching horseman, Kane had awaited his coming, preferring an invitation into the Vale of the Lian.

Kane relaxed his grip on the haft of his weapon only as the rider dropped the point of his own. There was something familiar about this elfling, yet Kane was not sure of his identity. Next to the mounted elfling stood a grey fox, upon which sat a shadow. _BOOM_, the sudden crack of thunder filled the air.

As Kane threw back his hood to gain a better view, a shocked look of recognition lit up the face of the Sylvan and Kane too narrowed his eyes, squinting to see through the downpour. "Kane," said Aravan. "Thou art named Kane."

"Thou hast named me true," Kane replied. "Yet how dost thou know me, Sylva? Thou lookest familiar to mine eyes, yet I cannot place thy face." Kane leaned foreword in his saddle and regarded the fox. "And thy fairy companion? Hath he also a name ?" _WHOOM._

"I am named Aravan, and my friend," Aravan waved a hand in the direction of the fox, "is Fjorn Foxworthy, Pysk of the Greatwood. As to my familiarity, I met thee in the tower of the Dark Mage Dantor." After a moment of silence the Lian continued. "I thought thee slain at the fall of the tower, the blast of the weapons had surely whelmed thee." Aravan shook his head to dispel the dark memories of his imprisonment.

Kane raised his eyebrows, "Thou art the caged Sylvan from that same tower? HAI! Now I recognize thee. My timely departure deprived me from witnessing the fruits of my revenge and Dantor's folly!" Kane nodded at the Lian. "Hail and well met, Aravan. It is good that thou escaped the destruction, what became of the others that entered the tower?" _CRASH._

"All survived," Aravan responded, "all except Dantor, sucked into the dark maw of some fell void no doubt, but thou knowest that fact, neh?"

Kane smiled at the memory. "Aye, the dark maw of limbo itself. Deserving of it he was, a foul minion of Hel itself, gone to his just rewards." Kane studied the Lian, then continued. "I have sensed another evil," he said finally. "An evil possibly greater than that of Dantor."

Aravan glanced at Foxworthy, and then back at Kane. "Say on, Mage," he said, "I also have recently heard foul tidings."

Upon being led into the tunnel behind Arden Falls to escape the storm, Kane preceded to tell the Lian and Pysk, though the latter still remained cloaked in shadows, all that he knew of the evil named Braxus. As Kane told his tale, the storm raged outside. _WHOOM_,_ BOOM_.

~*~

"Well then," said Aravan, when Kane's tale was done, "Thy path seems to be one and the same as ours, so let us be on our way to the Coron Hall where sits Duron, leader of my people upon Mithgar. The Coron needs to hear this tale and the tale that we have from Faenwyn. There, all can hear and share knowledge of this fell being and the rooting out of him from his lair in the Gwasp."

Leading his mare through the tunnel to the Vale beyond and, cupping hands to mouth to be heard above the din, Aravan yelled, "Hal Guardians!" Immediately, two mounted, green clad Lian, one a hand taller than the other, trotted from the brush behind the lone Eld tree, spears lowered toward the travelers until they recognized the rain soaked Aravan.

~*~

Soon, a guardian sounded his trump and spurred his steed down the Vale, toward the Coron Hall, bearing news of the travelers.


	13. Council

****

Chapter Thirteen

Council. Nightwinds.

Reaching up to the peg on the wall, Kaje withdrew a towel and handed it to Faedra as she rose from her bath; the Dara gathering her long ebon hair and then wrapping the towel round it. Handing a second towel to her, Kaje chided, "Careful of thy stitches _chier_. I would not have thee pull any loose ere time they needs be removed."

"Speaking of which, when shall mine be removed? I am growing quite tired of taking care not to 'catch' them or 'pull' them." And, drying the rest of her body, Faedra looked at Kaje, he still sitting on a stool beside the tub, and said, "I swear, if one of those beasts ever comes at me again, he shall know my rage in the full. Know this _chier_," said she, now pointing a finger at Kaje, "I shall never again need to be stitched for this is too much of an ordeal. I feel bound up, unable to do the things I did once before. Though I know that will soon change, I still long for things to be the way they were before all this happened."

"Soon love," said Kaje, then, with a wry smile coming to his lips, he continued: "Soon thy stitches shall be removed and you may once again attend to me as you once did." 

__

SNAP! Faedra's wet towel quickly whipped through the air and made contact with Kaje's chest, the Elf jerking back a second too late and tumbling to the floor as he fell off the small stool. Then, looking up at the Dara from the floor and holding up his hands as if to fend subsequent blows from the wet towel, he cried out, "Twas only in jest love . . . mercy! . . . mercy!" And, as she was drawing back the towel for another attack, the Dara broke out into laughter at the sight of her _chier _scrabbling backwards across the floor. Kaje, seeing that Faedra laughed, stopped his retreat and began to laugh himself. Then, of a sudden, _SNAP_! Faedra's lethal towel had struck once again, the Dara now laughing harder than ever, Kaje yet upon the floor holding up a hand to fend the attacks.

Having finally dressed and allowed Kaje to get off the floor, Faedra now walked aside the Alor as they made their way to the long hall. As they entered they were met at the door by Trean, she to wish them goodmorn and to then point them towards the main dining hall where the war council was to be held. This day would see Kaje, Faedra, Vanidor, Kaelea, and Julina telling the story of their attack upon the plains of Rhone. Too, Glaven would recount his days upon one of the planes occupied by Braxus and his minions.

Entering the dining hall, Kaje noticed Aravan sharing a table with a small Pysk. At the opposing side of the table sat one that Kaje recognized as the Mage that had been present when Dantor had died his horrible yet deserving death. Now, moving across the room, Kaje and Faedra took up seats at an adjacent table. And, within the next few moments, the room was filled to overflowing with Elven warriors as food was laid upon tables and goblets filled with wine.

After some time, when all had finished eating, Duron stood and, holding up both hands, called for silence. When all talk had ceased, all eyes turned his way, Duron began to speak of dire recent events: "As all of ye know, there has come unto Mithgar a fiendish foe. One cunning and consumed with much guile. Some among ye have confronted the get of this beast and engaged them in battle. I would have those stand and tell all they know of these spawn, as it were, and perhaps lend some insight as to the conquering of such." And, canting his head toward Kaje, Duron bade him to speak.

"My Coron," Kaje said, standing and bowing to Duron as he did so. "Four days apast, I, along with four companions, encountered the foe Duron has spoken of. Of these beasts I have but one statement and it is this: they are wickedly fast and cunning in their ways. I and my companions were engaged by some twenty of the foe. Of these were beasts with the appearance of Vulgs yet smaller and stouter of . . ."

"Shriklen," intoned an aged voice from a side table, all eyes turning toward the eld Elf that had spoken the word; Kaje looking to the Elf as well and then canting his head, yielding the floor to the eld one.

"Shriklen is the name given them on the plane whence I came. And our friend here is correct in his assessment of the beasts. Fast they are, and cunning as well. Yet without the help of their comrades, the Extaze, they can be easily defeated.

"Extaze?" asked Duron.

"Aye my Coron," said Glaven, now standing and using his hands to indicate various dimensions as he continued: "The Extaze are rather large winged beasts. Wings spanning some twelve feet. Grasping, claw like hands set mid-way along the pinions. A body the size of a young Warrow. Though they are called Extaze, I would call them Raptor for they circle high above the Shriklen and swoop down upon any prey that would escape the Shriklen. Too, they seem to communicate with the Shriklen and inform them of various aspects of any skirmish that they may be involved in; this giving the Shriklen better knowledge of its foe and its movements, this giving the Shriklen and Extaze the upper hand in any battle as they formulate a plan of attack."

Now, looking about the hall with eyes tired from untold visions of the horrors these creatures have committed, Glaven went on: "As for the Shriklen, I named them Vilka, for they appeared as would the Vulgs we know. Yet, as Kaje has said, or was going to say ere I cut him off, they are smaller, more compact, and fleeter of foot than the Vulg." And, looking once again to Kaje, Glaven canted his head toward the Elf ere taking his seat.

"Well, from what Glaven has told us," said Kaje, "I would deem these 'Vilka' are kin to the Vulgs we know. Their bite seems to contain something akin to the venom found in Vulg bites, as Dara Faedra and Alor Vanidor can attest. As for the Raptors, we were fortunate to have among our company this young girl," he now indicating Julina sitting at a nearby table, "for she felled all three of the winged beasts with her bow."

Now, looking around the room and then back to Duron, Kaje said, "My Coron, that is the gist of the battle. If there be other creatures in Braxus's ranks and they too roam the land, we encountered them not." And, bowing again to Duron, Kaje sat down once more, Faedra then placing a hand on his thigh and kissing him on the cheek.

~*~

"And that, worthy travelers, is the tale of the black void, and of Braxus," Glaven, being the last to relay his story to the group, looked toward Duron, who sat atop a dais at the end of the long-hall. With a nod from the Coron, Glaven sat down, spindley legs folding beneath him.

Three score Lian guardians filled the Coron hall, arranged around four long trestle tables that encircled the room. Also, sitting at these same tables, a Fox Rider named Fjorn Foxworthy, a Mage named Kane and a young woman named Julina. Upon the tables were strewn the dregs of an evening meal, various cheeses and breads, with fresh jams and butters. A large pitcher of mulled wine and the remains of a haunch of venison also sat on a silver tray at each table.

Foxworthy had been covertly studying Kane the entire time they had entered Arden Vale, eyes roaming over the huge red-haired man. After the final tale had been told, he stood on his chair, turned to Aravan and spoke into his ear. "Though Kane is not himself evil," whispered the Fey, "I sense something unwholesome about him."

"Aye", replied Aravan, "tis true. Though he helped to slay the Dark Mage Dantor in years agone, I deem this, cross not the Mage Kane, else he may lay thee low."

Frowning, Foxworthy nodded in agreement.

Pushing himself back from his trencher and rising to his feet, Aravan slowly shook his head, a look of sorrow upon his face. "Though it does my heart good to see thee Glaven, thy tale speaks of a great woe." Spreading his arms wide to indicate all in the room, he continued. "As also do the tales of many in this hall." As he spoke, all of the Lian within the hall murmured and glanced about at their fellows. Several, including the Fox Rider, eyed Kane dubiously.

This air of distrust was not lost upon Kane, who ground his teeth in silent rage. Who were these Sylva to spurn him? he thought to himself, had he not been cordial so far? Had he waged war upon them? Had he enslaved their kind or stolen secrets from them? With visible effort, Kane held his anger in check, nostrils flaring and vessels swelling in his forehead.

"I could slay them all with a word!" he fumed to himself. "Are they ignorant of this? Do they not respect my powers?" The expression on Kane's face only heightened the discomfort of those in the assembly, especially those near to Kane who could hear his low growls and see the whitened knuckles that clenched his eating knife.

On and on into the night the war council went, plans of all hues being discussed and discarded, even Foxworthy spoke upon occasion. Only Kane remained silent, watching, waiting, suffering the Elven eyes that regarded him with unanswered questions and preconceived judgment.

~*~

On into the night the war council did meet. And, as sun shone through the windows of the long-hall, all were dismissed. Some among the crowd to head to their cabins and a warm cot therein, others to remain in the long-hall and talk of all that had been said.

As the remaining Elves were talking to one another, Julina, with as yet unanswered questions in her mind approached Kaje, he greeting her as she approached.

"Hello, my friend," said Kaje, Julina returning the greeting in like ere he spoke on: "It has been a long night. What is keeping thee from thy bed?"

"I am heading that way, I just have a few questions to ask."

"Ah, well if that is it, ask away."

"I have been thinking on why it is that I have come into contact with you and your friends at this time. I mean, don't you find it strange that the last time peril befell the land it was my ancestors that were involved. And not just them alone, but you and your friends as well."

Kaje, listening intently to the girl's words, nodded his head at the girl's questions and seemed in deep thought ere answering. "Some would say tis merely coincidence. Some would say twas by the hand of Adon that we met. Still, some would say it has been fated since the beginning of time, an occurrence beyond even that of Adon's will. As to the which of these it may be, I know not. Yet, if twas fated, or coincidence or by the will of a God, I deem thou art here for some reason. And, as we Elves have seen many times in the past, these thing are best left alone and allowed to run their course. For doing aught else could have an ill effect on things yet to come."

Julina, standing with one arm across her chest, the other propped on the one crossed, a hand toying with a small pendent hanging at her neck, a look of deep thought upon her face, nodded to the Elf's words, then asked, "The bow that is now in my possession, you say it once belonged to Cordelia?" Kaje nodded ere she continued: "Then if this is the very bow she used, where might be the other bow? The one Kriston used."

"As to the whereabouts of that bow, I have no idea. In fact I had not expected to ever see the one that is in thy possession."

Taking in the Elf's words, Julina nodded then said, "Thank you sir. I shall give your words some thought."

Now Kaje began to laugh some, Julina looking at him quizzically ere he spoke. "Please, Julina, call me Kaje."

"Ok . . . Kaje," said Julina, a bit of a blush coming to her face as she turned and walked away.

Then, turning back to Faedra, Kaje said to her, "I would speak with this Kane. Try and find out why he has come unto Arden after these many years. And, why he has chosen this particular time to turn up."

Faedra, now looking toward the large red-headed warrior Mage, turned to look again at Kaje, "Can't thy questions wait until a later time _chier_?" Kaje merely shrugging at her words. "Come, let us to bed as well, for it has been a long night and once thou has rested some thy thoughts and concerns about Kane will be clearer." And, as he stood there looking into her beautiful, chestnut flecked brown eyes, he ceded to her words.

"Then to bed it is, _chieran_," said Kaje as he took up her hand and kissed it lightly ere the two turned and walked from the hall and on to their cabin.

~*~

As Faedra was changing into her nightgown, her finger caught a stitch. Growling in aggravation, she hastily inspected it and found everything still intact. Suddenly, a thought popped into her mind: _I could take these out myself. It should not be a terribly difficult task to undertake_.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Kaje pulling back the blankets, crawling into bed, and settling upon his back. Faedra turned and smiled guiltily at him. He would not like her removing her stitches, so she decided against it.

With a heavy sigh she crawled into bed and to his side. Slowly, she lowered herself until her lips met his. After a long and passionate kiss, she lay down, snuggling next to her _chieran_. He was uncharacteristically quiet.

"What is wrong, _chier_?" Faedra turned now on her side to face Kaje. "I, too, am apprehensive about Kane. He possesses an air of intense power that causes a great uneasiness among all our kindred. However, he did help destroy Dantor and has yet to threaten us directly. We cannot spurn him."

Kaje remained silent and at length he sighed. "Mayhap thou art correct, Faedra. Mayhap . . ."

With that, he turned to kiss her, and they both settled down into slumber, his arms about her, her slender hands resting upon his arms.

~*~

Kane sat cross-legged, upon a trestle table in the now deserted Coron hall. No light burned in the room, save the feral light of his blue eyes. Hands resting palm up upon his knees, he began the ritual whence he would enter the Astral world. Centuries of training had allowed him to master all aspects of his physical self.

As he concentrated upon his earthly body, his breathing and heartbeat slowed to a near standstill. His senses of touch, hearing, sight and all other unnecessary functions shut down, leaving his body to cool in the night winds that wafted through the open windows.

~*~

Kane soared through the Aether, silver cord trailing out behind. Below him, the shadowy forms of the physical world could barely be discerned. Brighter forms moved hither and yon, the souls of living beings imprisoned within their fleshly hosts. Yet the Astral plane was not uninhabited, other travelers flitted through the mists along with him. Some even dwelt within this plane, having no physical bodies. These were the beings that some referred to as spirits and ghosts, when they allowed themselves to be seen.

Onward flew Kane and onward, toward the source of evil that blazed like a beacon through the nothingness of the nether world. Soon coming to a stop over the huge number of ruby lights that milled around below; Kane suddenly realized the horrendous number of adversaries that he would have to face in the physical world.

As the moments passed, if they could be called moments, for there was no time in the aethereal world, Kane studied the blaze of evil below.

Suddenly, hordes of dark shadows sped upward towards him, gaining speed as they came on. He was not undetected, as he had assumed. As the forms approached, Kane steadied himself for battle.

In the Astral world, all battles were battles of the mind, of the will. A horrible foreboding came upon him as the shadows tore through the Aether towards him. What were these shadows, he wondered. As the forms approached, he could see their glowing red eyes, hear their mental cackling. Kane's worst fears were then realized. Spectres! He must flee!


	14. Preparing for the Quest

****

Chapter Fourteen

Preparing for the Quest

Sitting around the small table in their cabin, Kaje examined Faedra's stitches after their breakfast. "Well, _chier_, I would say these can come out today. But . . . thou had better go easy for a while. Won't do to re-open the wound."

"Fear not _chier_. For I would not have the wound re-sewn," said Faedra.

"Well . . . let us to it love," said Kaje as he arose from his seat and stepped to a small chest. After searching about in the chest, he found the small knife he was looking for and returned to his seat at the table. "Now . . . this should not hurt at all, though you may feel the gut as it is removed from the wound. Only a slight tugging at thy skin I deem."

Some time later, after all the stitches had been removed, Faedra stood in front of a full mirror and examined the pink scar running round her right side. As she stood examining, Kaje walked up behind her and, enfolding her in his arms, gave her a big hug ere saying, "Fear not, _chier_. For I deem the scar will not show too badly. Maybe give it some sunlight to darken it a bit neh?"

"Aye, _chier_," said Faedra. "Would that we had the time now, but other matters are at hand and such pleasantries shall have to wait."

"Other matters indeed," added Kaje. "And speaking of such, I would have that talk with Kane. Wouldst thou care to accompany me?"

"Nay, _chier_," responded Faedra. "I will stay here and prepare our gear for travel."

"Well and good, _chier_. Well and good." And, hugging the Dara to him and kissing her goodbye, Kaje turned and walked out of the cabin.

Moving through the Elven camp of Arden, Kaje received nods and waves hello as he passed many other Elves preparing for the task ahead. After a few moments he arrived at the Coron hall. And, as he was about to enter, the door swung wide and Kaje found himself confronted by the impressive form of Kane.

"Good morning, Kane," said Kaje, the man before him looking somewhat frazzled, eyes wide, facial features grim.

Now, squinting his eyes as they adjusted to the early morning light, Kane looked about some before letting his gaze settle on Kaje. Then, letting out a long breath, he addressed the Elf, "Um . . . good morning to you too, if you would call it that."

At the man's terse reply, Kaje fixed him with a perplexed look ere speaking more. And, looking at the big man, he still looking around as if searching for someone, or something, Kaje said, "Is there some bother that I may help thee with?"

"Some bother? Nay Elf, there is no bother," said Kane as he once again fixed his gaze on the Elf. "Only those things in the bounds of time that would seek to otherwise elude and taunt me," the big man now shaking his head as he spoke. "It is of no moment to you. But . . . I keep you from your errands, so I will detain you no longer."

"Thou keeps me from none other than my intended errand; that of speaking with you." And, with a questioning look from the big man, Kaje motioned to a nearby fallen tree and asked, "Couldst thou speak with me for a few moments?"

Kane, looking about the encampment once again, nodded to the Elf and walked to the fallen tree. Then, both having sat down upon the tree, Kane asked, "What is it that you would speak with me about?"

"Just this friend," the big man's brows raising at the term friend; Kaje not giving the expression a second thought as he continued: "I would know why this beast we pursue holds your interest so?"

"Well," began Kane, a far away look coming to his face as he spoke. "Some five millennia ago, Braxus sought to rule my home plane as he now does yours. In the battles that ensued, my family was killed . . . slaughtered. The fighting lasted for many seasons. Many people died. Yet, in the end, Braxus was sent to run as would a dog with his tail between his legs. Though I was young then, I vowed to ever pursue this fiend and see an end to him."

"I see," said Kaje, now sitting with his arms resting on his legs, head slightly bowed, eyes staring at his clasped hands. "That is a dire tale indeed. And a great burden for one to carry for so many years. Yet we all have our pasts and the unfortunate events of them," a remembering look coming to his face as he recalled some of his past deeds, and misdeeds. Then, returning his thoughts to the moment, he continued: "But I say this, thou art most welcome to join in our task. For I recall well your aid in the tower of Griffon Keep."

At this Kane looked at Kaje, "So . . . that was you in the tower," this more of a statement than a question. "I had thought you looked somewhat familiar. You were with the two young ones and another."

"Aye, twas me. The two young ones were Cordelia and Kriston. The other was my _chieran_, Faedra."

"_Chieran_?" asked Kane. "What is this word?"

"It is Sylvan, the Elven tongue, it means loved one. Though at the time, she held me not in such esteem, I did her." Now, looking at the big man, Kaje asked, "So, art thou planing on joining us on our quest?"

Kane, turning to look at the Elf, merely grunted and slowly shook his head, contemplating his response ere answering.

Kane thought deeply ere responding to Kaje's questioning. He had planned only to come to the Sylvans for protection of his physical body as he battled Braxus in the nether regions with his astral form. Now that plan had changed.

Kane's mind wandered back to the happenings of the previous eve, of the relentless pursuit of the Spectres. He had fled headlong from the evil shadows, for the Spectres were the nightmares of the Aether. They would capture any who came within range of their fell grasp and sever the silvery cord, the unfortunate captive's only link with the physical world. Then, over time, the captured soul would be twisted and warped, becoming a Spectre itself, continuing the never-ending cycle. Fortunately, the stronger ones strictly enforce the hierarchy of these shadows and many are slain on their quest to rule over one another. Otherwise, these creatures would overwhelm the Aether and all denizens of that plane would be destroyed and turned.

Only Kane's mastery over his fear had saved his very soul, his entire concentration had been upon his flight. As he reached his point of entry, the shadow demons had overtaken him, dark talons outstretched to sever his lifeline. Kane's eyes snapped open. His face was deathly pale and his paralyzed body was soaked in a cold sweat, he had escaped! He had stretched his cramped limbs, massaging them to promote the return of the blood flow. His mind now dwelled on the hideous truth, Spectres now prowled the Mithgarian Aether, servants of the demon prince Braxus.

"I shall join with thy people," Kane said, "perhaps we can aid one another in our quest to destroy this Demon Prince Braxus!" Kane wiped the sweat from his brow and shook out his crimson mane ere continuing. "Never again shall he conquer and destroy the innocent! SO SWEAR I!"

~*~

After Kaje left, and Faedra finished gathering and preparing their gear, she decided to go for a swim. The stitches had made her feel so unclean. Hastily, she wrote a note to Kaje telling him where she had gone in case he should return ere she did.

The water was cool and so very refreshing, and Faedra just lay there with her eyes closed, the current massaging her body. After some time, she awakened from her state of reverie with her hideous new scar the first thing her eyes beheld.

*_sigh_* _Well, my shoulder scar has a companion now_. Faedra thought to herself as she turned to gaze upon the old mark, barely discernable. However, she found it quite easy to see the path the arrow took as it entered near her collarbone and exited out the other side, with aid by Faeril who removed it. Two white circles were now present to remind Faedra of that time. Her mind began to wander to the unhappy past, and she felt it best to return home, so that she might hold Kaje in her arms once again to remove the old thoughts. Quickly, she dressed and turned her horse back to the path.

About half-way home, Faedra came upon a sight that caught her attention, and she could hardly believe her eyes. Just off the path, a Pysk sat against a large rock, his eyes closed. Thinking him wounded or ill, Faedra dismounted and quietly approached him. However, her efforts were for nought as she stepped on a small twig that cracked under her foot.

Cursing, she stopped in her path as the Pysk stirred. "I am terribly sorry . . ." Her words were abruptly cut off as the look on his face caused her to wonder. She had not seen such despair in a long time. She recognized this Fox Rider. "I have seen thee before. Thou wert at the council. My name is Faedra." Smiling, she reached out a hand, which he took.

"I am called Foxworthy. And I have followed a great evil here from my home." He released her hand and fell silent, his eyes taking on a distant look.

"I saw thee lying against this rock and thought that thou wert perhaps wounded or ill. But yet I see no injuries upon thy body. Perhaps thou art troubled. Thy face is long indeed."

Pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms about them, he sighed and gazed at her but remained silent as if searching for words. At length he said, "Indeed, Dara Faedra, I am deeply saddened for this is the first time I've been away from my love in a very long time. It grieves me to be away from her, and I cannot help but fear for her safety."

Faedra was moved by Foxworthy's situation and told him, "Come, let us talk more of this whilst we walk back home. I can relate to thy pain."

Gathering his quiver full of tiny lethal arrows, Foxworthy nodded and gained his feet. They soon set off for home, Faedra leading her horse, a fox trotting alongside.

"I, too, know what it means to be away from a love, Foxworthy. Only my love would never return to me, and I could not go to him."

The Pysk cocked his head and wrinkled his brow in confusion but remained silent as he waited for her to continue.

"My _chieran_, Galador, was slain by the Rupt. I have never felt such pain, and I did not wish to live without him. I spent many a year just wandering hopelessly. I say wander, for indeed my life had no direction. So, indeed, Foxworthy, I do know what thou dost feel. Only mine was permanent. The emptiness could not be filled. At least thou dost know that thy love yet lives. Thine emptiness will be replaced by thy love's warmth once again."

"But, I do not know for sure if she yet lives or not."

"Do not say such things!" Faedra realized her voice held an edge that was perhaps a bit more harsh than she had desired, and she lowered her tone. "At least thou dost have hope, Foxworthy. 'Tis the hope that will warm thy soul when thy lover cannot. When thou dost feel the despair begin to overtake thee, look upon her beautiful face in thy mind's eye, and she will give thee hope."

Foxworthy was silent as he reflected upon her words. Then at length, "But what about you, Dara? What happened? How did you recover from Galador's death?"

A big smile brightened her face. "Ah, I was saved by a dear friend who had possessed feelings for me that I never knew. His name is Kaje and he was the one I was with at the council. One day, he confessed his feelings for me, and I was terribly frightened for I did not know if I was capable of returning his love. And I could never hurt him. But in time, with his care, he healed me, and my feelings for him grew. I cannot say that I love him with all my heart and soul for Galador took a piece of me with him when he died. But I do love Kaje with every part of me that remains."

Soon, the village came into view, "Foxworthy, I would that thou accompany us in our hunt of these vile beasts that threaten everything we hold dear."

Foxworthy smiled, "Indeed I shall, Dara."

And with that, they parted after bidding each other farewell for a while, and Faedra returned to her cottage where she found Kaje sitting in a chair cleaning his blades.

He looked up from his work and smiled at her as she entered. "Ah, _chier_, didst thou enjoy thy swim?"

Faedra looked sad, "_sigh_. Alas, no, love, for thou wert not there to share it with me."

A playful smile formed upon her lips, and she took the sword and rag out of his hands. She leaned forward and whispered in his ear, "_Vi chier ir_, Kaje. Oh, how I love thee." She took up a hand and led him to their bed where they made gentle love, careful so that Faedra wouldn't reopen the wound, for she could not bear being sewn up another time.

~*~

Foxworthy sighed, laying aside the arrows he had been fletching. "Well, Rust, it seems we will not be returning home soon." The red fox whined at these words, lowering his head and laying it in the lap of his friend. Ruffling the red locks atop the fox's head, the Pysk laughed. "Ha! Cheer up Rust," he said, "we have found some new friends among the Sylva, NEH? Aravan is saddened by some event, yet Alor Kaje seems a delightful fellow and Dara Faedra has taken a fancy to us also."

The fox looked up at this last statement and barked a happy bark. The Dara had cheered the Pyk somewhat, though he still missed his love, his green eyed lady-o-the woods, his Daphne. A smile spread across his face as he thought of the reunion that awaited his return. As he dwelt upon these secret thoughts, a pale redness rose upon his cheeks and he coughed. "Well friend," he quickly said, embarrassed, "enough of being lay-abouts, lets be to it!"

Getting to his feet and dusting the leaves from his green trousers, Foxworthy headed up the path, pack-a-shouldered, toward Arden's heart, where preparations were already being made for the trek northward. A happy fox leapt gaily at his side as he whistled a merry tune. Only Adon knew what the future held for these two adventurers, only Adon knew.

~*~

Sitting alone in his room, Duron looked over map after map, carefully studying the many lands surrounding Arden, the many fields and fens, mountain ranges and deltas, cities and provinces, castles and steads. "So many possibilities . . . how shall we begin . . . by which path shall we go?" Duron said to himself. "Perhaps the best route would be to strike out through . . ." Duron looked up from his maps, a knock upon his door interrupting his train of thought.

"Yes . . . come in," said Duron, shaking his head to clear it of the many thoughts swirling about therein. And, looking up from the map now before him, Duron looked upon the fair features of Trean, she come to summon him to the main hall.

"The warriors thou hast called for are arrived, my Coron," said Trean, bowing slightly as she spoke. Then, straightening and looking at Duron, he once again looking down at the maps strewn about the table, a degree of sadness came unto her face. For, like a few of the other Elfesses in Arden, she cared very much for Duron and wished to see him not worried by such matters. And she gazed upon him as he once again shook his head and began to rise from the table, a bundle of the jumbled maps now clutched in his hands as he turned to exit the room. And as he did so, the look of despair and worry upon his face became more evident to the Elfess as he passed by her and stepped into the hall; the Elfess now left standing alone with her concerns for the Coron.

Stepping to the door a few yards down the hall from his own, Duron rapped twice on the portal. From within came the aged voice of his friend Glaven; Glaven the eld Elf, the aged Lian of Arden, the only one among them all that had faced this foe and then somehow managed to elude him.

"One moment," came the eld one's reply to the knock at his door. And, as he pulled the door open, Glaven looked into the smiling face of Duron, maps bundled under his left arm, a hand extended to the eld one.

"Come my friend," said Duron as he extended a hand towards the elder. "All of mine charges have gathered in the main hall and I would have thee at my side when I address them and present my plans for our pursuit of the foe."

"I would be honored to sit at thy side, my Coron," said Glaven. "Yet, I would have thee know, I intend to travel with thee and thy warriors. For my experience with the foe may be of help in the coming battles, even if I am not."

"Well and good my friend," said Duron, clasping the elder about the shoulders as he spoke. "Well and good indeed. Thine experience shall be much needed and I feel that all will be honored to have thee among their ranks." The two, moving down the hallway at a somewhat slow pace, talked once again of old times and their many adventures and exploits. And as they walked, many in the main hall talked among themselves and speculated as to their next course of action.


	15. Departure Again

****

Chapter Fifteen

Departure . . . Again

Waking in the early morn, Kaje gently kissed Faedra, the Dara's eyes opening as he did so. "Ah, my love, thou art awake," said Kaje.

"Aye I am. And have been for some time. I would have risen but, knowing this may be the last time we share a warm and comfortable bed for some time, I decided to lay here and enjoy the experience."

"Ah, love, would that we could stay like this forever. Yet duty calls and we must be up and to the Coron hall to hear Duron's final plans for our search." Now, with a smile coming to his face, Kaje continued: "Yet, this time around, I would see us make more headway than we did last time out."

"Aye, _chier_, as would I," replied Faedra, she smiling up at him ere laying her head back on his chest. The two cuddled together, passion filling the air as they made gentle love for perhaps the last time ere their group would head out in pursuit of the evil now present upon their beloved land of Mithgar.

~*~

Entering the main hall, Duron, with Glaven following close behind, made his way up to the dias. Stepping to the riser, Duron looked out at the faces before him, the many voices in the room quieting down as he laid the disheveled stack of maps on a nearby table. Then, once again looking out at the many faces looking toward him, Duron spoke, "My friends, I have spent the better part of the night looking over my many maps, too, I spent a time speaking with our new friend Foxworthy," Duron now indicating the small Fox Rider sitting upon one of the nearby tables. "He has given me a great deal of information concerning the whereabouts of the foe we now seek." And, pulling out a chair from the table holding the stack of maps, Duron sat down ere continuing. "To the north and west is a place known as the Gwasp. Of this place, I'm sure all of ye are familiar." Many nods greeted the Coron's words. "Our small friend here," Duron once again indicating Foxworthy, "tells me that one of his kind, Faenwyn, witnessed a great event therein. He told me that, within the Gwasp, she witnessed a beast that matches the one we seek. Too, she said that the foul one commands a great number of spawn, as it were." This statement causing a stir in the assembled, voices once again rising in speculation.

Raising his hands and calling for silence, Duron continued: "As all of ye can see," Duron now holding up the stack of maps before him, then dropping them back to the table, "I have been studying my maps," a look of deep concentration upon his face as he looked down at the pile of charts before him ere continuing, "and searching for the swiftest, yet safest route to that dire place." Now, selecting one map in particular, he continued as he looked at the map. "By my reckoning, our best route would be north out of Arden, across the southern range of the Granfangs, on to Gruwen Pass, and then on to the Gwasp." And, looking up at those before him in the hall, he asked, "If any of ye have knowledge of a more suitable route, I would hear it now."

Murmurs arose from those assembled in the room yet none among the group knew of a better route than the one proposed to them. Now, looking about the room, Duron said, "Then it is decided. The route I have laid out will be the one followed. Yet I say this: should another, more suitable route come to light, I would hear of it. For time is of the essence in this matter. The vileness that stalks the land and ravages all thereon must be stopped, and stopped soon."

With shouts of agreement coming from the group before him, Duron then said, "Then let us prepare to ride and prepare quickly. For I would have us ride within four candle marks. And no later."

Now, all in the hall rose and exited the room, thoughts of the coming pursuit filling their minds. And for a few among the many in the hall, thoughts of the fell beasts that Braxus had brought to the land flashed into their minds as they too exited the room and went to prepare for the coming search.

~*~

The Lian stable hands were unsure of what to do with Nightwind, the great black war-horse belonging to the one named Kane. The daunting horse had already almost killed the Lian who tried to rub him down and feed him some days earlier, and he had kicked down the wall to the adjoining stable to make more room for his gigantic bulk. The huge stallion would let no one near him, for he was well trained to answer only to his master. Surely no one could mount and ride this mad equine but Kane himself. Since no one dared brave the thrashing hooves and gnashing teeth to enter the stable, the hands had taken to tossing a sack of oats over the door to feed the destrier, being sure to stay a good ways back.

But now the Mage trod the straw toward this self-same stable, black saddle and bags tossed over his shoulder, a shrill whistle screeching forth from his lips. Instantly the loud whuffing and banging ceased and a huge ebon head could be seen rising above the stable walls, nostrils flaring. A loud whinny resounded through the horse barracks as Nightwind spotted his master, tossing his head.

Kane threw open the offending door and grinned as he stroked the coal black steed. "HAI! Nightwind," he bellowed, "glad am I to see thee also!" The horse lowered his great head; playfully butting Kane aside as the Mage tossed the blanket and saddle upon his back and began the much practiced, methodical, buckling and cinching of straps, with the Elves looking on. Finally adding the bags and bedroll, Kane vaulted into the saddle with a mighty leap and hauled on the reigns, pulling Nightwind's head about. Then, with a kick of his booted heels, he urged the stallion out of the stall and down the center aisle, out into the morning sun, ducking to clear the header beam above the door.

Mounted, Kane was an awesome sight to behold, a crimson haired giant atop a huge midnight black, spirited steed. Clad all in black leather, he was, a black cloak thrown over his broad shoulders and a spiked battle axe hanging from the high cantle of his saddle.

The other questers looked up at this rider sitting high in his saddle with unanswered questions on their minds, for they knew little of this grim giant, this Mage called Kane, and few trusted him. Those who had tried to get beneath his gruff exterior for the past week had come away disappointed. Unless he had something to say, talking to him was of no avail, for he spoke little, his answers being mere nods and perhaps a hoarse "yay," or "nay". It seemed that his mind dwelt on happenings far away, or perhaps in the future or past, but not in the present. Yes, Kane was a strange fellow, a strange fellow indeed.

~*~

By the time the sun reached its zenith, the war party was ready to begin its journey. Though hundreds of the Lian had volunteered for the quest, only sixty had been selected by the Coron to accompany the party, for Arden Vale still needed its warders. Glaven would lead the party of Lian north and west to the Gwasp, that place of foulness that squatted at the mouth of Gron. There he would decide the best course of action when the whereabouts of Braxus and his spawn were discovered. His lieutenants would be Alor Kaje and Alor Vanidor, each with thirty guardians under their command, also traveling with the party, a Mage named Kane, a Pysk named Foxworthy and a young girl named Julina.

Glaven glanced back at the horsemen trailing behind him, winding back through the vale. Sixty mounted guardians and three others, with another thirty pack ponies trailing behind. His countenance was dark as he scanned the faces of the warriors that followed him, followed to a fate he already knew. Glaven let his mind drift again to the vision that had plagued him for the last month, a vision of the fate that awaited him, that when he again saw the face of that demon, he would see no living thing thereafter.

The Lian guardian watched from beneath the branches as the last of the pack ponies disappeared into the darkness of the north tunnel of Arden. Then he was gone . . . back to his warding of the last home of the Lian on Mithgar . . . Arden Vale.


	16. Fallen Elfess

****

Chapter Sixteen

Midnight Chase. Fallen Elfess.

The horse ran through the night, the Dara upon it urging the mount to go ever faster. "They are most swift, Spirit. I do not think we will be able to keep this pace much longer" she said aloud. She turned in the saddle to look upon what chased them, her hair whipping in the wind, almost blinding her to the creatures that raced after.

"_Vash_!" she cursed, seeing that these vulg-like creatures were now just closing the distance between them. The foul winged beasts above circling as if they relayed her position to that which chased her.

"I deem we have no choice but to stand our ground, Spirit. I would rather stand and fight than flee in terror!!" She reined the horse in and turned to face these creatures of evil. Her deep violet eyes narrowed at the beasts that were yet coming.

She turned her head and glanced longingly at the place where she knew her home lay. "Ah, Spirit my friend. We were so close. If only we had but reached Arden. I now know not if I will see my home ever again."

Anger rose in her and she turned to face the enemy yet again. She dismounted and said, "Spirit, go!! I would not have thee hurt in this battle! If I fall then I would have thee run free. Mayhap thou shall be found by Lian warders."

As Spirit ran off she readied herself for the upcoming battle. She had no weapons on her and indeed did not need any. She closed her eyes and concentrated hearing the approach of the beasts, the beat of the air borne creatures' wings. She closed her mind to this and called upon the energy within her soul, her spirit. Of a sudden energy pulsed about her, silver light radiating from within, growing stronger and wrapping around her. The beasts were in the small clearing now, ready to leap at her, at the prey that yet stood her ground. As they came at her she opened her eyes and cried out "Spirit Sword!" and a sword of pure energy came from her hands, ready to strike at the creature that now just flew at her.

The sword of energy sliced cleanly through the creatures neck, its body bursting into flame. It was too late for the other beasts to turn back now, they formed a circle around her, trapping her in their midst and seeming to think of the best strategy to take her down.

"So, it would appear that thou are not as dumb as one would think, neh? Definitely not like creatures from Neddra," she said with a grim smile upon her face. "Enough of this game!! The chase ends here!"

She sprang at the nearest beast, taking it through the mid-section, the sword to extend outward and kill the others that had foolishly been next to it. The beasts yelped in pain as they burst into flames, running wildly about they managed to spread the fire to their companions. The Dara glanced grimly about, seeing if any of the vulg-like creatures yet lived. Just then one of the winged creatures swooped down upon her, its talons cutting through her clothes and ripping into her back. She threw herself to the ground and rolled enough to send the sword flying through the creature's heart. The thing burst into flame and as the others came to finish her off the sword of a sudden flew into five separate pieces, each to pierce one creature in the heart.

The battle was over, but the Dara just lay on the ground, wounded and exhausted. She closed her eyes and slipped into oblivion.

~*~

Moving out of the northern access tunnel to Arden Vale, the group, now having turned due west, traveled on through a narrow slot. This slot, in some places no wider than fifty feet, others no narrower than twenty, walls reaching up to forty feet in some places, at others no less than fifteen and shrouded above by thick vegetation, provided a convenient passage to Gruwen Pass. The vertical walls, in places covered with large patches of moss and lichen of various types, at times appeared wet as ground water seeped from the stone. And, though the sun was not always visible through the thick canopy covering the slot, the ground was covered in a thick turf. At times the floor of the slot would rise sharply then drop down again to become level once more.

Having stopped in one of the larger spaces of the slot, the group set about making camp for the night. Guards were sent a league to the fore and aft to ward the two approaches to the camp; in the camp four watches were set to watch the walls, these rising to some thirty feet to either side of the forty foot wide floor. And, all about the camp, the talk turned ever to the nature of the beasts being pursued. Too, much speculation was raised as to the best ways of fighting these beasts. For all had heard of the attack on the four Elves and the one girl just south of Arden and how the creatures had fought so cunningly. Long into the night the debates of these topics continued. Yet, near mid of night, all in the camp, except the warders, took to their bedrolls and slept.

The next morning the rising sun found the Elves, once again, trekking westerly through the shrouded slot. Near mid of day, the riders to the fore of the group exited the slot and looked down upon a long, narrow stretch of the land winding away from the slot and bounded on both sides by a smaller, yet formidable section of the Gronfangs. And, out into the sun drenched stretch of land, the pursuers of Braxus fared.

With the sun now moving into the western hemisphere of the vast blue sky above, the group now moved through the short valley that would see them, at last, to Gruwen Pass. Now, with the whole of the group traveling through the valley, the forward scouts, just now riding out of a large stand of trees running athwart the mouth of the valley, surveyed the land before them as it rose up to meet Gruwen Pass. Off to the left and right ran the tree line that the scouts had ridden from. Out before this line, and to the left and right of the steady rise, running north-south and leading into the pass, the land, for league upon league, fell away, gentle rises and falls in the terrain graced here and there with mighty oak trees; the trees appearing as large green orbs perched atop massive trunks. Here, at the edge of the wood, the scouts awaited the remainder of the group.

~*~

Now and again lowering his head toward the ground, Spirit munched at the green grasses about the body of his fallen master; the training of the steed demanded that he stay at his masters side until ordered to do otherwise or help could be reached. As the horse stood over his master's body, the slight sound of many voices caught his attention. Stepping away from the fallen Dara, Spirit moved to a nearby rise in the land and scanned the area, searching out the source of voices. And there, some three hundred yards and moving across a low rise in the land, Spirit spotted a large group of Elves. Turning and looking back at his master, then back to the mounted Elves, Spirit glanced back once more at his master ere turning and striking out for the group that now moved over the land.

~*~

Riding at the fore of the group, Faedra, speaking with Kaje, Vanidor, and Glaven, stopped in mid sentence as the sound of pounding hooves caught at her ears. Turning to her left, and looking in the direction whence the sound came, Faedra spotted the saddled horse running toward them at a full gallop.

"Away to the left!" shouted Faedra as she reined her horse about to face the charging steed.

Reining back on their horses and looking about for the cause of alarm, Kaje, Vanidor and Glaven then espied the riderless horse running full-tilt towards them. And, throwing up a hand to the trailing warriors, Kaje shouted aloud, "Halt! Stand ready all!"

"What the . . . ?" asked Vanidor, once again reining back on his horse to stay the fiery steed as it reared and lashed out with deadly hooves.

"A horse . . . closing at great speed. Yet no rider does it have!" said Glaven.

Spirit, now some fifty yards from the Elves, thundered to a halt; the desperate equine turning about, rearing, lashing out with iron shod hooves, whinnying as it did, eyes wide, ears laid upon its head. Then, of a sudden, the horse turned and thundered off in the direction from whence it came.

Turning and looking at his companions, Kaje asked, "What think ye? Follow the beast?"

Quickly scanning the land all about and seeing naught but themselves and the fleeing horse, Vanidor intoned, "I'm for it. Let us after the beast!" And before any could say aught, Vanidor, drawing his great silver sword even as he kicked the flanks of his horse, was away. And, looking from one to the other, Kaje and Faedra then urged their steeds after the diminishing form of Vanidor as he flew away after the lone horse.

Speeding over the rolling slopes of the scape, Faedra and Kaje, just now drawing even with Vanidor, saw that the fleeing horse now skidded to a halt and turned to once again stand over the someone, or something; the three riding nigh, as of yet, knew not the which of it.

Reining back hard and bringing their horses to a halt, green tufts of turf flying from divots dug by powerful hooves, the three looked upon a wounded and unconscious Elfess. Leaping from their mounts, the riders began to move toward the fallen form but were set to yield before the mighty war horse; the loyal creature yet unsure of these two legged beings' intentions. Now, holding up a staying hand to Kaje and Vanidor, Faedra approached the frightened beast.

"Careful, _chier_ . . . he is yet spooked," said Kaje, one hand unconsciously moving toward a sword at his back.

Turning slightly and looking back over her shoulder, Faedra gave a quick wink to Kaje and said, "Fear not, love . . . remember . . . I have a way with horses," a reassuring smile gracing her face.

His hand now upon the handle of one of his swords, Kaje looked toward Vanidor, and seeing the great sword in his friend's hand, he whispered, "Vanidor . . . put away thy sword . . . Thou art frightening the beast."

Vanidor, now looking at the sword in his hand and then looking back toward Kaje and noting that he was on the verge of drawing his, said, "Aye, yet thy should check thine hand there, friend, lest thy wilt be the one with the sword and not I."

Kaje, a bewildered look upon his face, began dropping his hand even as he turned to look at it. And, turning to look back at Vanidor, Kaje merely nodded at the broad smile on the Alor's face. Then, as both returned to the moment and the matter at hand, they looked to see that Faedra had now gained the confidence of the horse and was slowly stoking the beast's long mane as she whispered reassuringly into its ear.

"Canst thou lure the steed away from her, _chier_?" asked Kaje, his voice not much more than a whisper.

"Aye, I shall try," answered Faedra, the Dara reaching out with her right hand and taking the reins of the steed, all the while continuing to stroke its mane and whisper into its ear. Now, slowly turning and pulling the steed away from its master, Faedra turned and nodded to Kaje and Vanidor; the two Elves now moving to take up the fallen Elfess.

As Faedra slowly walked the horse away from its master, Vanidor laid the Elfess across the fore of his saddle and, mounting up, turned his horse about and struck out for the band of Elven warriors waiting in the clearing. Now, mounting his horse, Kaje took up the reins of Faedra's horse and waited as the Dara slowly turned the steed about and walked him over to her horse; Spirit, noticing that his master was no longer upon the ground began to whinny and buck about, the Dara quickly staying the beast, then continuing on toward her own horse. And, mounting her own horse and tying the reins of the lone horse to the cantle of her saddle, Faedra turned her steed about and urged her horse forward, Kaje following behind her and the lone horse.

Glaven, sitting upon his horse, watched as Kaelea rode out to meet Vanidor; the two to soon rein up beside the eld Elf, Vanidor then addressing him: "We needs set camp for the day, Alor. The horse led us to this fallen Elfess," Vanidor canting his head toward the unconscious Dara laying across his saddle. "She is wounded and will require our aid."

"So be it," said Glaven. Then, turning about in his saddle, Glaven called a nearby Elf to him; a bone and silver horn slung about the Elf's torso. "Sound the call for camp. Have all set to in yon trees," the eld Elf said, pointing back to the stand of trees they had recently exited. And, with a few short blasts from the horn, Glaven, urging his mount forward, trotted back toward the stand, the Elven band following in his wake.

Once they had reached the group, Kaje and Faedra, tethering their horses, as well as the fallen Elfess's, to a nearby tree, stepped to Vanidor and Kaelea's side; these two now tending to the Elfess's wounds.

Having examined the Dara's body for any wounds, Vanidor surmised that the wound upon her back was all she had sustained. Then, looking up at Kaje and Faedra, Vanidor said, "She is wounded badly only upon her back, though I know not from what." And, standing and removing his cloak, he looked about at the others and said, "I would ask ye to all stand back while I administer to her wound." Kaje and Faedra looking from one to the other and nodding, Kaelea looking to Vanidor, then the other two, nodded as well.

As the three stepped back away from the wounded Elfess, Vanidor, pushing up the sleeves of his jerkin, placed his hands upon the open gashes on the Elfess's back and closed his eyes. Then, leaning his head back, then forward, bringing his chin just to his chest, a ghostly blue aura began to coalesce about his forearms and hands; the blue aura to then move from his hands and into the body of the Dara. And, removing his hands from the Dara's back and raising his head up, the wounds upon the Dara's back began to heal. Standing up and motioning for Kaelea to come to his side, Vanidor bade her brew gwynthme to administer to the yet unconscious Elfess.

The unconscious Elfess, now laying upon her back, head propped on a bedroll, reflexively drank the heady brew as Vanidor doled out to her. And, some steps away, Glaven stood and talked with Kaje and Faedra.

"The wound upon her back appears to have been inflicted by one of the raptors that flies about Braxus's horde. I would say, though, now that her wounds are healed, the gwynthme shall bring her about. How long she laid in yon field we know not. But I would say from the look of the wounds ere they were healed, she was attacked no more than one night apast."

"Aye, Glaven," intoned Kaje, "I would agree. Yet, once she has gained consciousness, I would speak with her. Too, there was no sign of any felled beast upon the ground whence we found her." Glaven now frowning at these words and looking from Kaje to Faedra.

"Aye, Glaven. Twas no sign of foe about," supplied Faedra. "There is a bit of a mystery here and I would know of it when she wakes."

"As would I," said Glaven, a grave look coming over his face, head nodding slowly as one palsied hand rubbed the aged flesh of his chin.

Then, stepping back to where Vanidor sat doling out warm tea to the Elfess, Kaje looked upon the face of the Dara and suddenly realized that this Elf seemed somewhat familiar. And, stepping closer, squatting beside Vanidor, he leaned closer to her for a better look. Then, his eyes flying wide, Kaje said aloud, "Phoenix!"

~*~

__

"Help!! Please someone!! Help!" The cries grew in desperation. The voice screaming and screaming in her mind.

"Hist! I hear the child's cries!" said Rayne.

'Rayne? No', she said. 'You're dead. You can't be here.'

__

But those were not the words that came from her mouth. Instead, "They come from within that foul place. The mire. What should we do?"

This scene had replayed over and over in her dreams for centuries. She always had the same thought as she watched the scene play out once more. 'Coward. You were such a coward.'

__

Rayne said, "We must go in. There is no other choice. That child needs us." Rayne looked at her twin and sighed. "Phoenix. Thou must put thy fear aside. For the child's sake. Come we have no time to waste."

The thought, 'Oh Rayne. Please we can't do this. I can't. Not again.'

__

But the dream continued, Rayne spurring her horse into the mire, Phoenix hesitating, then doing likewise. She saw it again, as if from a distance, and cried out for her dream self to stop. To do something different this time. To no avail.

"NO!! Please Adon!! NO!!! Not again!!" She screamed aloud this time but did not wake up. Her body was yet exhausted from having used so much energy in her battle. The dream went on, and the tears continued to roll down her face.

~*~

After Vanidor had taken care of the wounded Elfess, Faedra made her way over to a nearby tree where the horse had been tethered. Slowly, she approached the animal whose ears were pricked forward as he watched her come ever nearer. Reaching out a hand, she caressed the silky neck and rubbed his nose with her other one. The horse's eyes were large and intelligent, and he snorted, but yet he moved not.

"Thou art a proud one. Thy could be mine own steed's brother judging by thy tempermant. Now, I am going to check thy body for any wounds, so that we may help thee like thy rider."

Humming an Elven song to soothe the animal, Faedra began to rub her hands over his body in search of any bites or scratches. The great steed flicked his ears back as he listened to her voice, and he soon relaxed, half closed his eyes, lowered his neck, and rested one of his hind feet, the weight now shifting in that direction. Soon, she made her way over to the side of his rested hoof. She placed her hand on his rump and gently rubbed down until she reached his cannon bone, her slender hand closing about the horse's leg.

All of a sudden, the beast kicked out, narrowly missing her head as she was bent down to examine the limb. Quickly, Faedra give the horse a little pop on the rump, just enough to let him know that she was still there. Angrily, she turned about and glared at him as a parent would a child who had misbehaved in public. She walked back to the horse's head and pointed a finger at him. "Oh, thou art indeed a kindred spirit of mine own horse. Thou hast better not try that again! I am trying to aid thee, and thou dost show thy appreciation by attempting to send my head in yon tree!" She made a gesture at a nearby pine tree and then began rubbing the horse's neck and nose once again until the wild, untamed, mischievous look disappeared from the dark eyes.

"Come, let me look at thy hoof." She began humming and rubbing the horse's body again until she had made her way to the rump, which she patted gently yet threateningly as she looked back and smiled at the horse as she continued to hum and then sing.

The horse let out a big sigh, turned his head back to face the front again, began licking his lips, and grinding his teeth in surrender. Faedra grinned at him. Once again, she ran her hand down the silky coat until she reached the fetlock, her slender hand once again wrapping around the limb. She felt wetness, and she let go of his leg to find blood staining her hand. Gently, she wrapped her hand again around the cannon bone and gave it a little tug, which the horse responded to by lifting his hoof, his tail swishing in annoyance and continuously batting her in the head. After she lifted the foot, she noticed that there were several cuts, some of them rather deep, around his fetlock, which his tail had hidden until she picked up his hoof.

After examining the foot, Faedra placed it back down and walked over to their supplies, knelt, and went fumbling through their stuff until she found Kaje's small medical bag, which she opened and dug in until she found the small container of salve.

"_Chieran_, may I borrow some of thy salve? The horse has a cut upon his fetlock that needs to be tended to."

Kaje looked away from the fallen Dara and offered Faedra a puzzled look. "Of course, my love. Has the horse been wounded by one of the foul beasts?"

Faedra turned her gaze upon Kaje as she stood, "I think not. Seems as if he became entangled in some briars." And then looking back over her shoulder as she began walking back towards the horse, "There are scratches all around one of his fetlocks."

She reached the horse, and his nostrils flared at the scent of the medicine. Faedra placed the container in front of him to let him sniff, which he did with ears pricked forward and the wild gaze she knew too well from many horses she had worked with throughout time.

He snorted.

"Aye, the stuff stinks."

After a while, Faedra withdrew the salve and began walking back to the hoof. Opening the container, she dipped out some of the medicine with her fingers, lifted the horse's hoof, and applied it with caution. After an appropriate amount coated the leg, she wiped her hands upon her breeks, placed the lid back on the container, and walked back to the horse's head where she patted him and offered him praise. "That was not so bad, was it?"

Suddenly, she heard Kaje gasp, "Phoenix . . ."

Quickly, she went to him and placed an arm about his waist. "What is it, _chier_?"

Turning from the Elfess on the ground in front of him, Kaje turned to Faedra; she smiling up at him, a slight questioning look upon her face. "The Dara here," he said, indicating the unconscious Elfess with his hand. "We meet once in Ryodo. Her name is Phoenix Silvertree. She trained with me for a while ere moving on. I had not recognized her until just now."

"How doth she fare, Vanidor?" asked Faedra.

"I deem she will be fine once the fever passes. The wound upon her back healed nicely but the venom of the beast that attacked her yet courses through her veins." Then, looking up at the two standing beside him, Vanidor continued, "The gwynthme should help with the venom. But, as to when she will awake, I know not."

Looking from Vanidor to Faedra and then to Phoenix, Kaje said, "We shall keep a vigil through the night. Should she awaken and I am not near, find me. For I would speak with her concerning her attackers. Yet, as to their being, I deem twas the get of the one we pursue."

"I would agree with thy suspicions my friend," said Vanidor, he still doling out the warm brew to the unconscious Dara. "I shall take the first watch over her . . . if for no other reason than to see that she receives the proper amount of gwynthme."

"I shall find Kaelea," said Faedra. "Perhaps she can sit with thee during thy vigil as I shall with Kaje."

Vanidor, turning from the two beside him, nodded as he continued pouring small amounts of the herbal brew into the Dara's mouth. Kaje, kissing Faedra ere she turned to search out Kaelea, turned and looked down at Phoenix, concern showing in his eyes as he did, said, "I shall find Glaven and let him know the Dara is yet unconscious but doing better. I shall speak with you later, my friend." And, patting Vanidor on the back, Kaje strode off toward the main body of the Elven army.

~*~

Ere departing to seek out Glaven, Kaje gave Faedra a kiss. As he disengaged from their embrace, she looked deeply into his eyes, finding a sincere state of concern therein. Moved by her love's worry, she held him closely, her chin resting upon his shoulder, her ear upon his cheek, a hand rubbing his back, the other gently caressing his neck. After a moment of silence, she turned her head slightly and whispered in his ear, "Thy friend wilt be fine, _chier_. Vanidor is a very capable healer. Thou must trust him."

She felt him sigh, and she pulled back, holding him at arm's length. Again, she gazed deeply into his eyes and sighed. Then reaching to grab his face, she gently pinched the corners of his mouth with her index finger and thumb of each hand and pulled up until she forced him to create the smile that had warmed her heart so many times before.

Suddenly, he burst into laughter and needed her aid no longer in getting rid of the frown. "Ah, thou art correct, _chier_, for Phoenix is in capable hands. Now I must away to find Glaven." Holding her face in his hands, he bent down and lightly kissed her forehead ere turning on his heels and leaving her to her thoughts.

As she watched him go, Faedra thanked Adon for Kaje as she had done many, many times before. As he disappeared among the host of Elves, her thoughts returned to the task at hand, and she turned about seeking Kaelea.

Finding her squatting before a small fire and brewing some tea, she approached her. "Kaelea, perhaps thou should keep a vigil over the wounded Dara with Vanidor. He is weary and needs rest. Perhaps thou can relieve him."

Brushing back a stray lock of hair as she looked up at Faedra, Kaelea said, "Indeed I shall. True, he is weary. I will bring him some tea once it's done."

"Well and good."

As Kaelea resumed stirring the tea, Faedra made her way over to her stuff to find her extra set of clothes, which she drew forth. Taking her blade, she left camp and headed toward a small stream not too far away. The clothes she was wearing were stained with the horse's blood and the salve she had used to treat him, so she removed them and brought them with her into the stream.

After relaxing a bit in the cool water she scrubbed them, her body, and her hair until they were once again clean. She did not tarry too long at the stream out of fear of meeting up with those foul beasts, and she soon made her way back to camp wearing her other set of clothes. Her wet ones she hung from some low limbs in a nearby tree, which she lay beneath for a bit of a nap.

~*~

The dream had dissolved into darkness. Her body felt as if it were on fire, but the pain was so far away. Only her consciousness was left, and slipping farther into the dark.

"_Jaian_." The word echoed all around.

__

Rayne? she thought. _Could it be?_

"Phoenix. Thou art lost." The voice grew closer, louder, the echoes fading away. Inside her mind Phoenix looked all around, but even her eyes could not pierce the darkness. The voice repeated itself, "Thou art lost. Find thy way, Phoenix. Find the way back."

The darkness fled and Phoenix fought to gain consciousness. She felt the fever burning through her body. _Poison?_ she thought. _How did . . . ?_ She woke then with a start, remembering the foul beasts that had attacked her. She tried to get up but someone was there, holding her down.

"Be calm, Dara. Thou are among friends."

She looked wildly about, understanding slow in coming to her exhausted mind. "Where am I? What happened?" She looked into the eyes of the Alor before her, still holding her down so that she wouldn't hurt herself, or someone else.

"I am Vanidor, and thou are safe now. We found thee in the forest unconscious," he said releasing his hold upon her shoulders.

"My thanks, Alor," she said softly as another Dara came up to them, tea in hand.

Vanidor looked up at her and smiled wearily. "_Chieran_, our patient is finally awake," he said as he took the cup of tea. Vanidor looked back to Phoenix and said, "This is Kaelea."

Kaelea nodded to Phoenix and said, "Here. Drink this. It will help thee to feel better."

Phoenix took the cup and drank, the tea warming her and helping dull the heat of the poison.

"I deem thou should actually thank thy horse. If not for him we would never have found thee."

Phoenix's eyes flew wide at what Vanidor said. "Spirit!! Is he alright? Where is he?"

As she jumped to her feet, she swayed and nearly fell back down, Vanidor catching her. "Dara!" he exclaimed. "Thou should not get up so soon! There are still traces of poison flowing through thee. Thou should rest now."

Phoenix looked at him, tears springing to her eyes. "Please. I must see to Spirit." She pleaded.

The Alor looked at her and nodded understanding.

Kaelea said, "Thy horse is fine. Dara Faedra has tended his wounds. They were but slight scratches." She put her arms about Phoenix and pulled her gently back down. "Rest now. Thou must regain thy strength." She looked up then and smiled, "Besides, I think thy Spirit would much rather see to you!"

Phoenix followed Kaelea's gaze and broke into tears at the sight of the big roan racing towards her. "My dear friend! Thou art alright! Thank Adon!!" Spirit nudged her shoulder and sank down so that Phoenix might rest against him. She smiled and sighed, "Ok, I get the hint! I'll rest now." She looked back up at Vanidor and Kaelea. "Thank thee both," she said as she closed her eyes and leaned against Spirit. But sleep was not what she planned on doing and instead slipped into meditation to clear mind and soul.


	17. Elsewhere II

****

Chapter Seventeen

Elsewhere II

At the northern end of the Boskeydells, a gatehouse of logs guarded the northeastern approach through the Thornwall and across the Spindle River. Few came this way as of late, 'cept the occasional trader or bard. The gate was guarded by a squad of Warrows called Thornwalkers. Armed with short recurve bows and long knives, they were clad in green and brown leathers. No one ever attacked though, and the 'walker guards as often as not left their arms in the room next to the kitchen, that is, when Captain Fletch wasn't around.

"I'm bored," stated Borro matter-a-factly. "Why don't the council just plug up the 'wall and let us git back to our grottoes?" The half dozen Bree around the table paused in their eating and nodded. Borro eyed the gnawed core of his apple and tossed it into the corner where the other fodder of their repast lay strewn. "Heck, let's just vacation for a few days, no one will be the wiser. We'd be back before the capt'n and the fall guard-change."

"What if we got caught?" questioned Ansil. "The capt'n'd peel our toes, and salt 'em down!"

Borro laughed, "HAH!, PEEP PEEP, you is just-a chick-chick, Ansil, the capt'n ain't 'posed to be back for anuther week. Ansil Chick-Chick, that's your name, peep, peep. HAH!"

"No I isn't," retorted Ansil, tossing down his lump of cheese.

Ansil was small even for a Warrow. Borro, being the resident bully, had teased him about this endlessly since he reported for duty 6 weeks agone.

Throwing back his stool and puffing out his chest, Ansil rose to his full three foot two inches, bringing a snicker from Borro. "You take that back or I'll . . . I'll," Ansil gaped and his mouth slammed shut.

"You'll what?" said Capt'n Fletch, slapping the back of Borro's head. He had entered the room unnoticed through the arch behind the lounging Warrows. "Git yu'r feet on the floor, this ain't your home-hole, and pick up those scraps, what you think this is, a pig waller?"

The guards leapt to attention, crumbs flying, saluting smartly. "Yessir, yessir," they stammered together. "Sorry, sir."

Capt'n Fletch was a tall Warrow towering to a full four feet two inches, his arms were gnarled with thick muscles, and he wore his leathers with the ease of many decades experience. "Aahh, what's the use, the council only sends me fodder now-a-days, not good Thornwalker stock!" The captain crossed his arms, glaring at the chastened guards. "Now all ya sluggards git to yur bunks and I better hear snorin' not yappin'!"

As the chastened guards hurried by, two were hauled up short by the scruff of their necks, Borro and Ansil.

"Whoa there, where do ya think you're going? You two will never be good fur nuthin'! Now git up them stairs and to the Thornwall afore I flog the meat from your lazy bones!" The captain gestured toward the door, and the two guards bolted for the stairs.

"Where do you think you're going unarmed!" Captain Fletch bellowed, "what if an enemy came with you at duty? What'ed you do? Throw apples?" The two guards ran from the room, soon returning with lanterns and bows, and disappeared up the stairs, the upper door slamming as they reached the top.

"AH! Adon!" the old warrior questioned, throwing up his gnarled arms, "what has an old veteran to do in these times of peace?" He shook his head and tramped from the room.

~*~

"It's cold out here, chick," Borro chided, "I could sure use some scalded milk, or mebee sum tea. YEAH! That'ed hit the spot." He frowned at Ansil. "Canna you hear?" he snapped, "I said go get me some tea Chick!"

"I'm not yur slave Borro, go git yur own stuff, besides, the capt'n would not want us to leave our posts." Borro waved a clenched fist at Ansil suggestively, causing him to reconsider the "request."

~*~

Ansil slowly trudged across the Spindle River Bridge, careful not to spill the tea from either of the mugs that he held. He sighed as he reached the far side, continuing on to the Thornwall. Glancing about till he spotted his nemesis Borro sitting propped against a tree, he headed in that direction. "Hot tea, come and get it," he hollered. Borro didn't stir from his place. "Hey you lay-about, I am about to spill this, then you aren't gonna get none."

Borro still did not move. Was he asleep? No, something was wrong. Ansil hurried toward his erstwhile antagonist. Spotting a dark liquid pooled on the stones, he ran forward dropping the teacups and falling to his hands and knees. Borro stared back at him slack eyed, tongue lolling. His throat had been torn open.

"CREATOR!" yelled Ansil, leaping to his feet in fear. "It is an invasion!" He spun on his heels, ready to dash to the alarm bells, as a tall black robed figure stepped from the shadows.

"Come, my little one, there will be no pain," crooned the dark stranger, gliding toward the startled buccan. Fear gripped Ansil freezing him in his tracks, his heart leaping into his throat. Tall the stranger was, six feet at least, and thin. He towered over Ansil. His face and hands were pale and his nails long. A strange Vulg-like creature padded at his side.

What Ansil had taken for a black robe, or cloak, was actually the leathery skin of bat-like wings. A strange smile played across the pale bat-creature's lips as he crossed the dozen or so feet to the stricken Warrow. Ansil recalled part of a hearth tale song from his childhood, as wind wafted the leathery pinions, and the cold talons slid across his unprotected throat.

__

If you see a sky that's red,

a striding figure black.

The wise ones say someone is dead,

so close your shutters back.

Down the path with silent stride,

his black robes all eschew.

Oh!, it does no good to hide,

if he seeketh you.

His scythe a deadly curve of steel,

with haft of yellowed bone,

and from his throat the laughters peal,

his voice a rasping moan.

If you see the Reaper then,

you know he comes for you.

It is a fight you cannot win,

if your time is through.

So when you see a blood-red sky,

you run in fear my son.

For if you see him passing by,

mayhap you are the one.

~*~

King Comar of Aven surveyed the countryside from the highest tower of the huge fortress; Greykeep. Drawing the brisk air into his great lungs, he sighed a huge breath and brought his fist down unto the stone crenellations with a thump. "Adon it is great to be alive," he yelled at the morning sun, just beginning to peek over the mountains.

Greykeep was a concentric fortress built upon the foundations of a pre-cataclysmic ruin. These ruins formed the lower levels and sub-basements below. With its four great flanking towers, gatehouse and keep, along with various compartments, it housed 2500 souls. The garrison of Greykeep was made up of 1000 warriors that consisted of 100 knights of the realm, with their esquires and men at arms.

Comar Amrason, was the master of his demense. Beloved of his subjects and subject himself only to the High King in far Challerain Keep, he ruled without the iron fist of his fathers and garnered good will from the masses. Soon after his ascension, King Comar opened the many fortresses of his kingdom to his peoples and disbanded many of the former military orders of his forefathers.

These military orders had been entrenched in the society since the wars of ascension to keep a tight reign on the peoples of the land and to enforce the strict policies of the royal families. Soon though, these societies used their force of arms to keep the people subjugated and in constant fear. Comar would not reign this way, he had pulled down the old orders and instituted a new way of ruling, with mayors and representatives for each town and dukes for each region, all answering to him as King.

It did not come easy. Many of the former lords took up arms against this upstart king, feeling that being overlords in a feudal society was their just due. Comar had gathered all Knights that supported his cause. A few well placed military actions later and these lords recanted their errors. It took a few years for the townspeople to learn to trust their erstwhile lords and to feel free to intermingle with them.

Now, standing atop the highest pinnacle of his fortress, Comar wondered at the future of his realm. Surely peace would reign for a hundred years, for his Knights were the best and bravest in the land. As he pondered this, a long a smile stretching across his coarse features, a strange sight caught his attention. "What the gods?" he started. Shielding his eyes from the sun, he gazed intently into the eastern sky. "What a strange bird," he mused, it had seemed for a moment to be a winged man flapping across the heavens, but now was gone. "Perhaps the wine from last eve," he said to himself, finally heading for the stone stairs that led down from the parapet. "Yes, the wine."

~*~

The warfist of Mineholt North marched forth from their stone fortress on the first day of harvest. Down the valley they tramped, led by Kurok Warmaster, toward a white granite barbician rearing up into the sky, guarding the ramp that crossed the great chasm. Five abreast they marched across the iron bound oak drawbridge and onto the mainland, the sound of the bridge being slowly drawn up on its heavy chains aringing in their ears.

Clad in black iron chainmail and carrying double bitted axes and great warhammears, the warfist was fearsome to behold. As the warfist rounded the bend that started the passage through the Rimmen Mountains, they began a Chakka battle chant of old.

__

Warriors marching forth to die, A grim and laughing flood

If any of our brothers fall, we shall repay in blood.

In blood, in blood, we shall repay in blood.

When our enemy appears, the black shafts we let fly.

Charging into battle then, with loud and fearsome cry.

A cry, a cry, a loud and fearsome cry.

When Chakka march in battle dress, none stand in our way.

Our enemies will be laid low, at our feet this day.

This day, this day, at our feet this day.

As the last of the Chakka warriors rounded the bend, the guardians of the gatehouse let out a great shout and threw the iron bar that locked the gate in place.

Why did the Chakka of Mineholt North march to the west? They marched because a great array of Wrg gathered on the western border of their realm. An advance Chakka scout had reported the spawn to be unlike any Wrg encountered in the past. Never the less, DelfLord Drakko had ordered their extermination, and onward marched the warfist, onward to battle, onward to glory.

~*~

King Comar of Aven looked again at the missive he had received from DelfLord Drakko of Mineholt North. Comar had promised him one hundred mounted warriors to guard the flanks of his Drimm army as he went to war against these new spawn from the west. He sighed and called for his chamberlain, tossing the scroll into the blazing fire. His royal council had spoken against it, had even become enraged at his insistence on sending the troops, so he had relented. Now he felt the guilt of a broken promise, a promise between kings and allies. What would he do? What would he do?

~*~

Bankie Blackberry sat rocking in his new chair upon the tiled porch of his grotto, a blanket spread upon his lap. It was a fine chair, carved of the clearest Ivorywood, a hardwood indigenous to the valley in which he lived. He slowly ran his hands over the smoothly carved arms, caressing every feature. "Yes, a very fine chair indeed," he said to himself, a smile spreading across his face. He hitched his legs up under the quilt and peered over the railing of his porch to the valley below. From this high, Bankie had a commanding view of the entire region.

His grotto was the highest upon the face of the great eastern wall, in Northdell, and one of the oldest. It was built into one of the myriad of caves that dotted the entire escarpment, some connecting to the maze of passages that honeycombed the face of the cliff. Some of the newer grottoes were lucky even to have two rooms and his had three . . . three!

It was a goodly grotto, with 3 large rooms and a tiled porch, high above the floor of the valley. Bankie loved the high grottos; he didn't mind the long climb up the carven stairs. From here he could see the sun, as it set over the western crags, perfect for his painting and sketching.

"My, my, tis colder up here," Bankie said to himself. "Perhaps a spot-o-tea, yes that would be the perfect ending to a perfect day." Unfolding his legs, he leapt from his new chair and padded across the tiles to the main room of his abode, sparing an appraising smile at his new surroundings.

This room was sparsely furnished. A few rugs dotted the floor, and a large trunk was pushed against the far wall upon which numerous hooks held various pieces of clothing and blankets. "I have many years to furnish it proper like, before I ferret out a pretty lass to share it with me," he sighed, as he crossed this room, stepping through a side arch into the kitchen.

Soon a pot of water was hanging from the iron arm over the coals of the kitchen hearth. Bankie was just beginning to crush a bit of sweet-cane into his teacup when he was startled by a call from the balcony. "Yohee, yohee," came a voice from the porch, "any buccoes at home?"

"Eh wait . . . wait," called Bankie from the kitchen. He soon appeared wiping his hands on a cloth. "Who's there?" he cried, spotting another buccan Warrow climbing over the porch railing. "Binky, you scoundrel, I told you a thousand times . . . use the door."

The triumphant buccan dressed in blue knee-breeks, coat and hat, bounded across the tiled floor to land laughing into Binky's arms. Much hugging and back pounding ensued, soon to become a wrestling match with both fellows rolling among the rugs on the floor, each trying for a superior handhold.

"I surrender. I surrender," Bankie called out. He was soundly tied into a knot upon his own floor. "I could never beat you at wrestling." The two fell apart laughing and sighing. "Why the visit so soon?" Bankie said. "I've yet begun to get this place in order, what with it lying empty for so long."

Binky smoothed the wrinkles from his coat and picked up his cap, dusting it off. "I've come to bring you to Ma's age-naming party," Binky said with a questioning quiver to his voice, raising an eye-brow, "surely you haven't forgotten?"

Bankie's expression was that of a doe in the lantern light. "Uuuuhhhh, n . . . n . . . no," he spouted, "course not . . . Not me . . . Wait." He bounded into the bed chamber, soon to be filled with rummaging sounds, and returned to grab his good coat from a hook and lead the way through the stout ivorywood door to the stairway beyond.

~*~

The age-naming of a Warrow was a thing both dreaded and revered. Dreaded for the fact that one was older, revered because one gained more respect and a higher standing in the community.

The celebration would last for 3 days, with feasting, dancing, and as much revelry as a Warrow could stand. The celebration would take place in the great common cavern that formed the entryway to the eastern grottoes of Northdell. The cavern was close to 800 paces long and 600 paces wide.

It was hewn to form a rough oval with a domed and painted ceiling that reached up into the darkness above. Upon the few balconies that peered from the heights, one could see small groups of Warrows in quiet conversation.

As Bankie and his brother Binky emerged from one of the many passages that dotted the perimeter of the great cavern, Matron Blackberry was already welcoming the folks from the surrounding communities. She frowned in their direction, and they knew they would get a talking to from their Da for their tardiness. Today their Ma would pass into the latter years of Warrow life, into Grand-dam hood. She would then have authority over the females in the lower age name groups.

The two brothers mingled among their friends and acquaintances, trying to remain far from their Ma, as the party grew in size and ferocity and as the day crept on into the night.

~*~

For three days the party had continued unabated, then, at noon on the third day; "AAIIEEEEE!" a cry shook the gaily decorated cavern, "Mama . . . mama," as three dammen lasses ran to their mama's skirts, pointed in the direction of the entrance.

Staggering into the Great Grotto came a tattered and bloody eld buccan, gripping the doorpost for support. A hush fell over the crowd and all remained motionless as the staggering Warrow choked out one word, "DEMONS!" then collapsed.

This spectacle wrenched the Warrows out of their reverie, sobering all but the most intoxicated instantly.

Grand-dam Blackberry was the first to throw off her stupor and rush forward to the fallen Warrow, who she recognized. He was Captain Fletch, from the guardhouse over at Spindle Ford. "WATER!" she yelled, "and brandy!"

The partygoers leapt to obedience, for a Grand-dam of Northdell had spoken.

~*~

A great shout rose skyward as the Drimm warfist issued from the valley, two abreast, and glimpsed the enemy arrayed against them. Like a swarm of ants the Grg were, milling about, small and black in the distance. "_Chakka Rok_!" bellowed Kurok Warmaster. Immediately the column of iron mailed warriors split to the north and south, marching out in opposite directions.

"_Chakka Rhork_!" came the order, and the lines stopped, turning to the west. Then again, "_Chakka Rok_!" a second line marching to fall in behind the first. This went on till all the warriors were arrayed in a long battle line ten ranks deep, shields locked together in an inpenetratable iron wall.

There the Chakka waited, chanting a battle dirge, waiting for the enemy to advance upon their position. Hours passed, the enemy seeming to give them no heed, then, movement among the enemy ranks. The milling of the swarm of demon-spawn seemed grow less random, started to move out into the valley, toward the Drimm shield wall, gaining speed as they came on.

A roar like that of Bellon Falls rose from the swarm of foul Grg as they rushed across the valley floor, headlong toward the braced and ready shield wall of the Chakka. An uneasiness fell over the grim warriors as more and more of the small Grg issued from the mountains, swelling the already large host to more than twice it's size.

The iron clad Chakka braced themselves against the impact lest it whelm them on the first pass, the ancient battle cry flying from their lips, "_Chakka Shok! Chakka Cor_!" Then the enemy swarmed over them like a slow black tide.


	18. Speaking with Glaven

****

Chapter Eighteen

Speaking with Glaven

Even as the party of Elves tended to the needs of Dara Phoenix and her horse, Kane eyed the happenings from atop his huge dark steed. Semi-entranced, he dared not enter fully into the aethereal realm lest he be captured by the Spectres that now stalked those nether regions. Yet he had gleaned useful information never the less, information that must be imparted unto the leader of the party, Alor Glaven, if the quest was to succeed.

Kane slid from the back of his destrier and proceeded through the camp toward the fire of General Glaven. All around him the Elves prepared the day's repast from the meager rations they had brought. As he approached the main campfire, he noted the Guardians and single Pysk that sat there. Drawing upon his memories, he tried to recall the names of those present and of the necessary manners that he would follow in their presence. "Bah!" he muttered to himself, "How I despise company and preferred solitude."

Glaven looked up from his fireside position, from his conversation with Aravan. "Ahhh, Kane," he said, motioning toward the tall, black cloaked Mage, "Hast thou decided to join us at last? Come, sit by my side, I would speak with thee."

Kane strode around the perimeter of the fire and to the side of Glaven, though he did not sit. The eld Elf craned his neck, looking up at the huge man who towered over him. "We must continue on," Kane said. "Ye cannot wait for thy wounded, or stragglers that slow the quest. Even as we speak, Braxus calls forth more of his evil minions from beyond the planes. We must find his lair and destroy the power token that he uses to summon them forth!" He punctuated this last sentence by smacking his left fist into his right palm.

A hubbub arose as the guardians mumbled around the fire, some calling out to be rid of Kane from the company, surely he did not expect them to leave any wounded behind?

"PEACE GUARDIANS!" called Glaven, motioning for silence from the distressed Lian, "peace." He then stood to get a better view of Kane and speak with him face to face, though he reached only to the bottom of the giant's chest. "Kane, why dost thou speak this way? What dost thou know that we do not?"

Kane scanned the faces that glowed in the firelight, seeing even Foxworthy's small form there. "Spectres," he said, "spectres have invaded the Aether of Mithgar and now serve the demon Braxus. Their king, their most powerful, has taken on a physical form."

Bedlam erupted around the fire, some jumped to their feet hands on hilts, others buried faces in hands, for all had heard of these evil spirits of the nether realms.

Glaven again called for silence. "And who is their king?" he questioned.

Kane waited till silence reigned and all eyes were on him. "Azrael,"he said, "Azrael is their king."

~*~

Walking among the gathered Elves, the corners of his mouth tingling slightly, Kaje smiled to himself and felt blessed for having such a wonderful mate as Faedra. Adon had truly blessed him with her and Kaje gave thanks everyday.

Now, having located Glaven and a few of the other Elves, Kaje approached the small group. As he did so, he noticed that Kane stood near the group and addressed Glaven. As he moved closer, he could just make out the words spoken between Glaven and Kane . . .

Glaven again called for silence. "And who is their king?" he questioned.

Kane waited till silence reigned and all eyes were on him. "Azrael," he said, " Azrael is their king."

Having stopped in order to hear more clearly, Kaje once again continued on toward Glaven and Kane. "What is all this about Azrael? And being a king?" asked Kaje.

"Kane was just speaking on matters he seems to have some insight to," said Glaven, a dire look upon his face as he looked from Kane to Kaje. "Our friend here has sight into the Aether of Mithgar and has seen therein spectres. Of these spectres, there is one called Azrael. It would seem he is the leader, or king, if you will, of these spectres." Glaven, now looking toward Kane and receiving a nod in return, continued. "It would seem this specter king has assumed a physical form upon Mithgar and even now aids Braxus."

"Tis dire news thou speak of Alor," said Kaje. "Yet I would inform thee that the wounded Dara we found this eve is yet unconscious. If we needs ride tonight, I shall see to her means of travel."

Quickly turning his head about, fury and rage glowing in his eyes, Kane spat out, "You mean not to take that fallen female with us do you? She will but slow our progress"

Kaje, now slowly turning from Glaven and facing Kane, stepped to the large man and addressed him, "That 'fallen female' thou hast spoken so callously of, is a friend of old. I would not have her abandoned upon this plain, left to die like some pitiful animal." Now, stepping to within a hands breadth of the large man's chest, Kaje looked up at the malefic scowl staring down at him and spoke, "If thou would have it otherwise, thou shall have me to deal with."

Glaven, moving as fast as he could, stepped to the two men fuming at one another. And, moving in between the two, he pressed them apart with his arms. "Fighting among our own is the last thing needed this day," said Glaven. "Our foe is yon," Glaven canted his head toward the north and west, "in the Gwasp. It is he thou shalt fight. And not each other."

Stepping back from the big man, Kaje turned to look at Glaven and merely nodded. Kane, rage yet burning in his eyes, turned and strode away for the small group and on to his great war horse.

"It would seem his temper is short," said Glaven. "As is thine."

"Perhaps my wrath was ill founded," said Kaje, his gaze dropping from Glaven's to the ground. Then, looking back to Glaven and raising an arm to indicate the vast plain beyond, he continued, "Yet I would not leave a wounded comrade to die upon the open wold. I know that time is short and our travel should not be hindered, yet I can not allow a fallen warrior to die when help is at hand." And, looking back the way he had come, back toward Vanidor and Phoenix, he spoke on, "As I said before, I shall see to the Dara's transport as we move into the Gwasp. If she recovers as did Vanidor and Faedra, she will be able to aid us in the fight, and a formidable ally will she make."

"I have no doubt of that, my friend," said Glaven, his features resolute, an arm extended toward Kaje, a hand upon the Alor's shoulder. "We ride on the morrow my friend. If thou wouldst see thy comrade ride with us, thou hadst better see to her preparation for the ride."

"So I shall, friend. And again, I apologize for my behavior with Kane," said Kaje; Glaven waving a negating hand to the Alor's words. "As for him," he continued, "I shall seek him out when his temper is quelled some. And make amends."

"As thou see fit, my friend," said Glaven, "As thou see fit. Yet heed, rile him not. For I deem he would just as surely engage thee as not."

Nodding to Glaven's words, Kaje turned and strode back to the fire Phoenix lay beside. As he drew near, Kaje noted that the Dara sat of her own accord, her horse lay upon the ground beside her, Vanidor and Kaelea squatting beside her.

Approaching the three, he noted that Phoenix seemed asleep, leaning against her horse, Vanidor and Kaelea talking lightly with each other. "How doth she fair?" asked Kaje in a soft voice as he knelt beside his friends.

"She awoke but a few moments ago," replied Vanidor. "She meditates now. Which may be the best rest for her at the moment. Too, her fever has broken."

"Shall she be able to ride on the morrow?" asked Kaje.

"I would say so. Yet not at length," answered Vanidor.

"I have spoken with Glaven and told him of her condition. Yet at the time I did not know she had awoken. Still, Glaven would have us ride on the morrow, as would a few others," Kaje said as he looked to where Kane sat upon his mighty war horse. "I would that we stay close to Phoenix for the next few days. Even if that means falling behind the group."

"I shall stay at thy side," said Vanidor, Kaelea voicing the same.

Looking from one to the other, Kaje thanked the two for offering their help. Then, standing up and looking about, he spotted Faedra resting beneath a nearby tree. Saying goodbye to Vanidor and Kaelea, Kaje strode over to the tree Faedra rested under and sat down beside her. As he did so, Faedra opened her eyes and looked over at Kaje: "How did thy talk with Glaven go, _chier_?"

A slight smile coming to his face ere he answered, Kaje, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on his knees, said, "My talk with Glaven went fine." Then, looking at his hands, his fingers fiddling with a small oak leaf, he added, "Though my talk with Kane was anything but fine."

"How so, _chier_?"

"Ah . . . " Kaje, now throwing the small leaf to the ground, exasperation sounding in his sigh, looked toward Faedra as he spoke. "He would have us ride day and night it seems. Leaving the wounded in our wake."

Faedra, though silent, raised a questioning eyebrow at these words. Noting this, Kaje explained, "He would have us leave Phoenix behind since she is wounded. I, on the other hand, voiced my opinion on the matter. For a second there I thought it would come to blows. Yet Glaven stepped in and stayed our ire."

"As he should have, _chier_. We needs not fight amongst ourselves," intoned Faedra, her right hand reaching up and brushing away a stray lock of hair from Kaje's face.

"So Glaven said, _chier_. And . . . he, of course, is right. As are thee. Still, as I said to he and Kane, I would not leave a wounded comrade behind when help is at hand."

"I know, _chier_. I know. And that," Faedra said as she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, "is one of the many things I love about thee."

Looking to the Dara, Kaje could not help but smile at her. Then, leaning over and kissing her back, he said, "Well, _chier_, the hour is late, and on the morrow we ride." Now, standing and offering a hand-up to her, he continued, "Come. Let us to bed. For tomorrow when we ride we shall see to Phoenix and any care she would require. Though we may lag behind the main of the group I have no doubt. But, she will need our help along the way. And I would not leave her behind. For her skills in battle are admirable."

As the two walked to their bedrolls, they encountered Julina sitting by the small blaze Phoenix lay near. "Good evening, Julina," said Kaje.

The young girl, shaking her head as if clearing it of some distant thought, looked up at the two as they stepped to her. "Good evening, Kaje, Faedra. It is a cool night tonight, isn't it."

"Aye tis that indeed," said Faedra, she smiling down at the young girl as she spoke.

"I would that thee ride with us as we journey on tomorrow," said Kaje, he, too, smiling down at the girl.

"I shall like that very much," responded Julina, a shy smile meeting the warm ones of the two Elves.

"Well and good, my young friend," said Kaje. "Yet, the hour is late and thou shalt need thine rest for the coming ride."

"I know. I know. I was just sitting here thinking about my family . . . my ancestors. I do hope that I can live up to the example they set so long ago. Being a worthy ally in battle I mean."

"I'm sure that thee shall prove to their equal," said Kaje. "And, judging from thine ability with the bow, I would say more so."

"I do hope so. For I would not wish to let anyone down."

"Fear not, Julina," said Faedra. "Thy skill with the bow is commendable. And a welcome ally thou shalt be."

"Well, again, I do hope so," said Julina, her shy smile turning to a look of slight concern. "But I am keeping you two from your sleep. And myself from mine."

Laughing out loud, Kaje nodded and said, "Then to bed with thee, young one. And on the morrow we ride."

Now, stepping to their bedrolls and lying down, Faedra and Kaje snuggled close to one another. Each sharing warmth with the other. Each giving comfort and solace to the other. And soon they were asleep.

~*~

Out and away from the Elven camp, two or three leagues across the rolling plains leading to Gruwen Pass, several swart beasts lopped across the fields, a solitary, spectral being gliding before them. Gaining the crest of one of the many rises upon the plain, the pack stopped and observed the Elven camp for several minutes. The beasts upon the ground growling amongst one another, they ready to attack. Yet, the pack was held at bay by the spectral being, much to the beasts' chagrin. After looking upon the camp awhile, the spectral being turned and led the pack back into Gruwen Pass, and on into the dire bogs of the Gwasp.

~*~

Julina did go to bed after her talk with Kaje and Faedra. However, it was a little while before she went to sleep because her mind was still occupied with several thoughts.

It was not until this night that she had realized the fear of failure. She had dreamed of being like her ancestors, but now she was afraid that she couldn't. And she felt that if she failed, then the failure would affect her entire family.

Of course, this fear of failure was not the first fear she had known since she had joined the four Elves right before the battle. She had been frightened during the battle. She had been afraid for some of the others after the battle. Also, though she would not admit this to the others and barely to herself, she was afraid of the giant warrior Kane. This fear was mainly because she had never seen anyone like him before, and because she knew of the part he had played in the defeat of Dantor. Every time Julina saw him, she remembered the description of how he had appeared in the tower.

This fear was part of the reason she was glad that she would be staying with Kaje and Faedra the next day. She felt most comfortable around the members of the group that she knew her ancestors had known and trusted. Although, she was not as timid as her ancestor Cordelia had been, she did tend to be somewhat shy, and felt uncomfortable around such a large group as this had become.

Finally, Julina fell asleep, with one hand clasping the rose pendent she wore. As she slept she dreamed of her family. She often dreamed of them, although all the dreams were different. She liked the dreams because they made her feel like her parents were still with her.

In this dream, Julina was with her mother. The two of them were doing chores together and talking. Julina was asking about her ancestors. She had wanted to know where they had lived her, and her mother, Oriana, had said that they had lived in a small town between Crestan Pass and Jallor Pass. There were rumors that after the death of leader of this settlement, and also after Amalia's death, Cordelia and Kristian had returned to this settlement and had hidden several things in a secret room. Julina awoke, the dream still fresh on her mind. She vowed that if she survived the mission, she would go to that town and see if she could find the secret room.

~*~

The peace Kaje and Faedra shared as they lay snuggled against one another was broken as Faedra suddenly felt a presence gazing upon their encampment. She knew not what specifically caused this dreadful feeling or from which direction it came. All she was aware of was that it was quite harmful, and she shot up suddenly, breath coming in quick gasps.

Startled by her movement, Kaje sat up as well and wrapped her in his arms in a soothing effort. Gently, he stroked her hair and whispered over and over, "All is well, _chieran_. Fear not."

Feeling his calming touch, her heart slowed back to normal. With head buried in his chest, Faedra sighed and silently nodded that everything was okay. At length, she looked up at him. "I felt an evil presence, _chier_. My bracelet was warm but returns to normal as it has passed. Oh, 'twas dreadful indeed! My wound tells me that the beasts drew near but are gone now. Oh, _chieran_! I cannot bear the thought that thou couldst fall victim to them and go through what I did."

Smiling softly down at her and rubbing her scarred side, Kaje replied, "'Tis true that we know not our fates, yet we are in the presence of a great host of our most skilled warriors." Here he paused, the smile replaced by a serious gaze. With his left hand still upon her side, he reached up his right to hold her chin. Gazing deeply into her eyes, he whispered, "Faedra, be at ease my love." With that he released her chin and bent forward until his lips touched her as they shared a long, passionate kiss.

~*~

"Focus. Become one with mind, body and soul. Heal thyself mentally and physically."

The words repeated through her mind. Calming and healing. Her mind at peace, Phoenix opened her eyes. It was late and all in the camp were asleep, except for those on watch. She stretched out her arms and legs and got to her feet, a little dizzy and weak, but feeling better.

As she got up so too did Spirit, the roan looking at her as if to say, "You should be asleep!" Phoenix smiled at him and whispered, "I'm tired of lying on my back! Tis time I moved about for a change!" She turned to her saddle bags and rummaged through one, coming out with some jerky and crue. She frowned at the food but ate anyway, not wanting to bother anyone in camp for something better to eat. Chewing on the jerky she tilted her head back as a light breeze blew through her hair and over her face.

Phoenix sighed and gazed at the stars, "Ah, Rayne. I'm finally home, so near to Arden Vale. Yet I cannot go back just yet. Evil is upon this land and I know I must help to put a stop to it. It's what you would do." She sighed yet again as she finished her light meal and looked back to Spirit. She rubbed his nose and smiled sadly.

Once again she looked through her saddlebags, this time pulling out a small black case. She ran her hands gently over the wooden case and opened it. Inside the case was lined with silk, light blue and soft to the touch. Nestled in the silk was a silver flute, gleaming brightly in the light of the moon. Phoenix took the flute out of the case and walked silently to the edge of the camp, Spirit supporting her as she went. She came to the small stream and sat under a tree. Placing the flute to her lips she began to play a soft, melancholy song, the silvery notes seeming to float lightly upon the breeze. Spirit grazed upon the grass beside her, his ears hearing the soft, sad song of his rider. He knew her pain was something no healing, no meditation could completely cure. The song continued, accompanied only by the wind and silently shed tears.


	19. Elsewhere III

****

Chapter Nineteen

Elsewhere III

Kurok Warmaster adjusted his grip on the blood slippery haft of his battle-axe, awaiting the next onslaught. "What were these strange Grg, and why this far east?" he wondered, chewing his thick mustaches. "What could have roused them from their dreary swamps? And where was King Comar and the promised knights?" He cast his thoughts aside and prepared to slay as the Ruck like masses of demon-spawn poured over his shield wall.

Kurok Warmaster tossed his battered and split buckler aside and took a two handed grip on his axe, shaking the sweat from his eyes. Kurok peered through the mayhem at his beleaguered warfist. Fully half were wounded or dead, the rest were spread thin and being driven slowly backward toward the cliff edge and certain death. For three days they had fought a losing battle against insurmountable odds, falling back through the valley foot by foot on the second day they had been attacked in the flank and pushed into a side plateau that terminated in a thousand-foot drop. Kurok groped for his battle horn to sound the rally . . . gone, only a frayed leather thong remained.

"To me, to me!" he bellowed trying to be heard above the din, and looked around . . . cut off. He could see the eminent demise of his warfist; the cold curtain of defeat was being slowly drawn. His fault, HIS!, 5000 brave Chakka warriors lost, the entire warfist of Mineholt North. How could he have fallen into this trap, even a child could have seen it. They were betrayed! King Comar and his warriors would never come. Few precious moments remained till all would be lost. His warriors' bodies cast upon the rocks below, stripped of their harness and dignity. Food for the carrion crow. The great ancestral axe, Darksbane, falling into the hands of the demon Grg, an outrage against all that is holy and good. "THIS SHALL NOT BE . . ."

Swinging a great sledge in each gnarled hand, Slag Forgemaster crushed enemies to right and left. Strength or armor alone could not stay the force of his blows. Forty years of forge work had strengthened his thews and endurance to a level unheard of even among the Chakka. His bronze armor hung in crimson tatters from the rain of cuts he received, but he was undaunted. Leaving a mass of shattered bodies in his wake, he surged forward, ahead of his men, plunging deep into the enemy lines. Here the second of the three mighty brothers met his fate. Heedless of his own safety, he was cut off from his warriors, to stand battling alone against insurmountable odds.

Kurok could see his brother Slag standing alone, fighting off a score of black devils, the enemy pressing in on all sides. Kurok shouldered and cut his way through the melee, trying to reach his kinsman, but he was sore pressed to defend himself and could not reach his brother's side. As in slow motion, through the dust kicked up by a thousand straining feet, he saw his brother's guard battered aside by two Hel spawn as the spear of another transfixed him.

"CREATOR NO!" with a roar, Kurok wrenched the helm from his sweat soaked head, his breath came in ragged gasps, knuckles whitening on the haft of his great war axe. The whites of his eyes suddenly gone red, lending his face a terrible aspect. The war-fog descended over Kurok Warmaster.

This transformation was not lost upon the enemy facing him. The devils before him suddenly drew back, "YAARRGHH, VENGEANCE SHALL BE MINE!" Kurok bellowed, froth starting from his cracked and dried lips. Charging into the fray, battle-axe swinging in deadly arcs that no foe could withstand, reaping its terrible harvest. His war-fogged mind was barely able to tell friend from foe. Kurok raged deep into the enemy lines. His warband, seeing the enemy line buckle, follower in his wake, renewing their attack. They would sell their lives dearly. The attack was fierce and bloody, many dark demons falling before the axes of Kurok and his warband.

Even as the demon Wrg army recoiled from the last-chance onslaught of Kurok and his raging warfist, a clarion call, long and sweet sounded from the north. Thundering around the edge of the cliffs and unto the plateau charged an array of armored lancers, King Comar of Aven at the head in his great war chariot.

~*~

Northdell looked deserted. All Warrows fit for patrol having already set out for the gatehouse where the slaughter had occurred. The remaining Warrows had barricaded themselves in their grottoes against a possible invasion. Even now, buccan eyes peered out of narrow windows, arrows nocked.

The patrol that had gone to the gatehouse guarding the Thornwall entrance had found no enemies, only the bodies of their friends, throats slit. No tracks or spoor could they find either, though they searched all day.

Who would kill thus? Rucks? Foul folk? No, they would have eaten the slain ponies and ransacked the fort, but nothing had been disturbed. As they pondered this mystery, they buried their dead and regarrisoned the fort, sending out scouting parties to warn the surrounding countryside of the danger.

~*~

A black, bat-winged figure flew through the night, back to the great swamp in the north, the Gwasp. "The fool Braxus thinks to be my master, HA!" he cackled to himself, "Soon . . . very soon will he be my servant!"

Spiraling downward, the winged one finally came to a rest on a hummock of moss in a brakish pool of water. There, he cleaned the remainder of Warrow blood from his talons and face. "AAhhhhhh! To kill again," he rasped, "What pleasures I have forsaken to dwell in the nether regions!"

At that, he gave a piercing shriek. Soon shadows formed and gathered 'round, evil forms neither solid nor spirit but something of both. Yes the spectres must come, for their king had summoned them, Azrael had summoned!

~*~

Comar led the charge in his great war-chariot, standard whipping in the wind. His vanguard of knights fanned out around him to the east and west into an unstoppable hammer of flashing steel. Across the plateau they thundered, across and into the rear of the evil beings that harried the Chakka, lances lowering to impale and slay. The rear ranks of the spawn pointed and yammered, leaping up and down in a vain effort to gain their fellow's attention. To bring their brothers around to face this new menace, but to no avail.

The charging knights crashed with a sickening crunch into the rear ranks of the enemy. The impact sending bodies flying wide, lances impaling two, even three of the small black foe. The panicked spawn packed together as they tried to flee from the knights and scythed wheels of Comar's war chariot, the spinning blades dealing death even as Comar hewed them with his war sword.

Tossing their spent and broken lances aside, the knights plunged their war-horses deep into the middle ranks, war swords hewing. A cry went up from the spawn and they began to crumble, crushed between the hammer of the knights and the anvil of the dwarves. Those that could break free, quickly fled toward the mountains in the west whence they had come.

The slaughter was great. Piles of black bodies lay heaped before the exhausted Chakka warriors, of which a scant four score remained. To the west, the scattered bodies lay strewn across the plateau, to the very edge of the mountains giving evidence of king Comar's unwillingness to let any escape.

Having returned from the slaughter of the fleeing spawn, King Comar of Aven wheeled his chariot to a stop in front of Kurok Warmaster. The Chakka stood leaning upon his bloodied axe, armor awash in sweat and gore. Leaping from the chariot and tossing his helm to the ground, Comar hastened to the side of his friend and ally, a look of sadness upon his face.

"Forgive my tardiness, brother Drimm," Comar said, "I would have arrived sooner but for squabbles at home. I see I have arrived almost too late! Forgive me!"

"Nay, friend," replied the Warmaster; "No forgiveness is necessary. So are the trials of war. Ever will brave warriors fall in the battle against evil. Yet I deem we were lost ere you whelmed the foe!" With this, he clapped the King across the back with his huge hand, bringing a gasp from Comar.

Comar fought back the tears. Never again would he listen to the court advisers that counseled him against the feelings of his heart. As he gazed upon Kurok and the Chakka slain, his lip began to tremble.

This did not go unnoticed by Kurok. "Let us be about the wounded," Warmaster suddenly said, indicating the mass of Chakka warriors sprawled about the battlefield. "They need succor from the valiant wounds received this day." At this, he trotted off, leaving Comar standing amidst the dead, alone.

~*~

The demon prince Braxus raged at the dark being that stood before him. "WHERE ARE THE PRISONERS! I COMMANDED YOU TO BRING THEM TO ME!" Slamming his fists down upon the throne upon which he sat, a throne made of bones. The demon stood, towering over the Spectre that stood before him.

"Forgive me, my lord," Azrael said inclining his head, "The hunger came upon me and I could not resist. It has been centuries since I have been upon the physical planes."

Braxus cut him off with a wave of his taloned hand. "I WANT NO EXCUSES!" Falling back into the seat of his throne, he continued. "You will go again to the land of the thorns. When you return, you will bring me a prisoner . . . ALIVE! Or it will mean your death! GO NOW!" With another wave he dismissed the Spectre, who walked between the pillars and up the stairs of the throne room, the throne room that had previously been a tomb.


	20. Breaking Camp

****

Chapter Twenty

Breaking Camp

As the sun rose the next morning, Kaje, with one arm about Faedra, roused the Dara from her slumber. As she rubbed at her eyes, Kaje leaned over and kissed her good morning. "We must arise, _chieran_. For today we ride and we shall be burdened some by Phoenix."

"Aye, so we shall. Yet . . ." Faedra sat up and looked about the camp and to where Phoenix had lain the night before, "I see her not in our camp this morn. Her horse is gone too."

Now, Kaje stood and surveyed the camp, looking for any sign of the Dara and finding none. Then, walking to a nearby watchman, he inquired as to her whereabouts. In a few moments Kaje returned to Faedra, she now standing and fastening her bed roll to her horse, and informed her that Phoenix had been seen walking out of camp sometime in the night. One of the watchmen had kept an eye on her as she moved from the camp and to a nearby stream. There she was left alone. And, bending down and scooping up his bedroll and throwing it over the back of his horse, Kaje turned to Faedra, "Come, let us to the stream and check on her."

"Perhaps I should go alone, _chier_," said Faedra.

"Alone? Why alone?"

"She is a Dara . . . I am a Dara . . . Think mister Hard-head . . . " she said as she reached out a hand and tapped him on the side of his head with her index finger. Kaje, a dumbfounded look on his face, merely shook his head. Now, shaking her head, Faedra explained, "She may need tending to in a way that is better left to a Dara and not an Alor."

Kaje, now mouthing a silent "Oh" and nodding in understanding, could not help the blush that came to his face. Yet smiling, he said, "I shall search out Glaven and see when they are to leave. Hopefully we will not be far behind." And, yet blushing, he leaned toward the Dara and kissed her ere turning and heading toward the main of the camp, she turning and walking toward the stream.

~*~

Sitting near the small camp fire, Glaven kicked at the small embers with a leather shod foot as he sipped warm tea from the cup in his hand, the other turning a map laid across his lap. As he was doing so, all about him Elves made ready to depart. Some drenching fires and spreading the wet coals, some affixing bedrolls to horses, others, in small groups, studying maps.

As he was studying his map, Kaje approached him, "Hail Glaven, good morning to thee."

"Good morning to thee, Alor Kaje," said Glaven as he stood to greet the Elf. "Art thee and thy companions ready to ride this morn?"

"Aye, Sir we are, yet we needs locate one." Glaven gave Kaje a questioning look at this. But before he could voice his query, Kaje spoke, "It would seem tha Dara Phoenix went for a stroll last night as we slept. Fortunately, for us, one of the watchmen saw her as she departed the camp and followed her. She merely walked to a stream that flows some hundred yards from here. There she spent the night, or so we hope."

"Hast thou sent someone to search for her?"

"Aye, even as we speak Dara Faedra is moving to find her. Though, I will say that, if she is long in her search, I would have thee and the remainder of the army move on with out us. We shall make up the distance in but a day or two."

"Art thou sure this is best, Kaje?"

"I deem that the Dara will be riding to her full within the two-day, Sir. So far she seems to be healing rather well. And, given that she walked from the camp last night and to a stream some hundred yards away, I feel that she is faring even better than I had first thought. So I say yes to your question, Sir, I deem it is best. For she may yet need not ride o'er long."

"If thou would have it this way, then so be it." Now, raising up the map in his hand, he traced a route across the depiction of the Gwasp drawn thereon. Stopping at a point some distance into the great mire, he stabbed his finger down on a point. "Here we shall meet up again," said Glaven, Kaje noting the point as he nodded.

Glaven now reached out a palsied hand and clasped Kaje's shoulder and nodded resolutely ere turning and walking toward his horse. And, shouting over his shoulder as he walked away from Kaje, he said, "I shall look for thee in a two-day then. Travel well my friend."

"In a two-day," called back Kaje before turning and walking back to his horse.

Having fastened his bedroll to the back of his horse, Kaje walked to where Vanidor stood fastening his own to his horse. "The main of the group shall ride soon. I have spoken with Glaven and told him that we shall meet up with him in a two-day. Perhaps by that time Phoenix shall be fit to ride at length."

"Well, seeing as how she is up and about this morn, I would say she should be," said Vanidor.

"So I thought. Though now that thee hast confirmed my thoughts, I am reassured in my estimation. We shall ride out as soon as Faedra has retrieved Phoenix and all are ready to ride."

As these two stood speaking, Julina approached them: "Do we ride soon?"

"Aye we do," answered Kaje. "Shalt thou be ready to ride?"

"I am ready now."

Kaje smiled at the girl's willingness to be away then frowned. Turning to face her directly, he said, "This shant be a quest of pleasure. But one of dire peril."

Shrugging her shoulders and looking toward the ground, Julina said, "I know." Then, looking back up at the Elf, she continued: "Perhaps I am just eager to see if I am as able as were my ancestors."

"Fear not, child, intoned Vanidor, he now turning to face the girl, a slight smile on his face. "For I have seen thee in battle and would say that thy bow is quite lethal. And I pray that the foe has the good sense to give thee wide berth."

Laughing, Kaje added, "Indeed . . . indeed. For thou art quite the archer. Yet heed, young one. For battle is something that should not be rushed into. The first rule of battle is to avoid it at all cost. Then, if it can not be avoided, thou shouldst use thy cunning and guile. Think of ways to avoid contact with thine enemy. Yet, at one and the same time, think of ways to engage him with as little physical contact as possible."

Kneeling down before the girl, Kaje reached out a hand and, placing it on her shoulder said, "Battle is just that; cruel, brutal, devastating. Can it be avoided, it should be."

Julina, looking at the Elf kneeling before her then to the one standing, nodded ere saying, "I shall remember that. And perhaps along our way I can learn such cunning and guile." Then, smiling at the two Elves, she added, "I shall indeed remember your words. But now I must go and prepare to ride."

"As shall we, young one," added Vanidor.

As Kaje began to stand, there came two short blast from a horn. Standing and turning to look toward the sound, Vanidor doing the same, he saw the long column Elves moving out across the open plain before them; their heading a direct path for Gruwen Pass and the Gwasp beyond. And, turning from the departing Elves, he looked at Vanidor. "Well, they are away. Come, let me get a map and I shall show thee our meeting point in the Gwasp." Vanidor nodding as they turned and walked towards Kaje's horse.

~*~

Phoenix had watched the sun rise, the notes of her flute greeting the bright sun in the distance. She stood and stretched her tired body, yawning as she walked to the stream. "Ah, Spirit. I deem a bath would do me good, neh?"

After a quick bath Phoenix dressed and began to care for Spirit's own needs. "We had better hurry. I think we should get back to the camp soon so we can find out what is going on!" Spirit nodded in agreement and they both turned back towards camp. They took a few steps and noticed a Dara walking towards them. Phoenix stopped, wondering who she was.

"Dara Phoenix! I'm glad to have found thee! I trust thou art feeling well?"

Phoenix smiled, "Aye, Dara. I feel better indeed. I hope I haven't worried anyone."

Faedra returned the smile and joined Phoenix in the walk back towards camp. "I am Faedra. It's nice to see thee up and about. Kaje was worried."

Phoenix's eyes flew wide at the mention of Kaje's name. "Alor Kaje? He's here?" she smiled as she continued, "It has been long indeed since last we met. But tell me Faedra, what exactly is going on? Why art thou camped here and where art thou headed?"

Faedra explained everything she knew and was almost done when they heard the sound of horses headed out from the camp. "They are leaving! I deem we should hurry. I know Kaje would not leave us but we must make haste!"

Phoenix nodded in agreement and they both rushed back to the campsite.

"Ah, there thou art, _chieran_! I have spoken with Glaven and told him we will meet up with him in two days," Kaje said as he took Faedra's hand and smiled. "Phoenix, it is good to see thee again, though I wish circumstances were better."

Phoenix nodded, "Aye, Kaje I'm glad to see thee well, and happy!" she said with a smile looking to Faedra and back to him. "Faedra has explained what is going on. I promise to help in any way against this new evil." Spirit walked up to her and nudged her in the back, "Ha, how could I forget thee, my friend? Spirit will help too of course."

Kaje laughed then grew serious, "We should go soon. Break thy fast and I shall introduce thee to everyone." They walked to where Vanidor and Kaelea were getting things ready for departure. "Thou hast already met Vanidor and Kaelea."

The two nodded their heads, Vanidor handing Phoenix some tea, "Aye, we've met. I am glad thou art better. Thou must still take it easy though. No more long walks out of camp!"

Phoenix laughed and apoligized, "I didn't mean to worry anyone. I had to clear my mind. Plus I needed the exercise. Kaje mentioned breakfast though, and I can't tell thee how hungry I am!"

Kaelea handed her some mian and a plate of food and they all sat to eat.

"This is Julina and Foxworthy," Kaje said.

Julina smiled shyly, "It's nice to meet you, Lady Phoenix. Are you really feeling better?"

"Aye, Julina, I am. Thanks for asking. Thou must tell me sometime of how thou got mixed up in all of this. I would say this is no place for one so young, but I know we all have our own paths and destinies." A far away look shone in Phoenix's eyes, but she shook her head to clear it of old memories.

She turned to the Pysk as he said, "I'm glad you're feeling better. It's always nice to meet new friends. Oh by the way, this is my friend Rust."

Phoenix smiled at them both, "Aye, tis always good to have friends. In all of my travels I had almost forgotten that."

They all finished breakfast and prepared to leave. Kaje walked up to where Phoenix stood and said, "We shall ride at a pace that will not be overtiring for thee. It will give thee a chance to fully recuperate." Phoenix began to argue but Kaje broke in with a grin, "I thought thou would disagree! Thou hast always been stubborn. Thou must regain thy strength though. We do not truly know what we ride into."

Phoenix sighed, "Yes, I know. But if I do remember correctly thou art about as stubborn as I! If not a little more!" They laughed as they mounted up and rode towards the Gwasp. Phoenix wondering what waited for them in such a foul place.

~*~

Foxworthy sat atop his friend Rust eyeing the goings on of the camp. Fifty of the Lian and the Mage Kane had already left for the Gwasp, leaving a small band behind to care for the wounded Dara, who seemed to be healing nicely.

As the Elves broke camp, Foxworthy looked over the folk that had become his friends in the past months: Aravan with his crystal spear, the lovers Kaje and Faedra, Vanidor of the two handed sword, Kaelea the quiet one, the wounded Dara Phoenix, and the young girl Julina. A smile crossed his lips as the small group of companions mounted up and prepared to move out.

Situated at the head of the column, Alor Kaje looked around. As his gaze fell upon Foxworthy, he grinned and indicated the lead, throwing a silly salute to the Pysk and bowing from atop his mount.

Clapping his green cap atop his head and checking his quiver once more, the Pysk prepared to move out with the rest of the small group. "Well, Rust," he said, ruffling the red fox's forelocks, "We're off again. HI HO, RUST, AND AWAY!" With this, the twain sped to the head of the small column and past, scouting the way ahead, the way that held the fate of all Mithgar.

~*~

Watching as the small, shadowy figure sped away across the lush green fields before him, Kaje hoped that the wee rider would come upon nothing untoward. And, with a sigh, he urged his horse forward as he turned to look over his shoulder at the riders following behind.

After a few hours, the riders left the grassy plains and entered Gruwen Pass. Through this slot the riders trod for the next few hours. Now, having reached the northern mouth of the Pass, the group stopped for a quick meal. And, as they stood eating their meager meal, Vanidor turned to Kaje and asked, "I have seen naught of Foxworthy since he rode away from us on the plains. I wonder where he has gotten to."

"I know not, my friend," said Kaje, a half eaten biscuit in his hand, waterskin in the other. "Though I do hope his path is clear and free of foe. I would hate to think of the little one meeting up with Braxus' curs."

"As would I," said Vanidor around a mouth full of mian. Then, swallowing the food and taking a drink of water, he spoke on: "I would not worry too much though. I deem the wee one will turn up soon enough. Besides, if he does encounter the foe, he knows to return to us at all speed, and to not engage them."

"I hope thou speak true, my friend . . . I hope thou speak true."

Popping the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth as he lashed his waterskin to his horse, Kaje called for all to mount-up ere doing so himself. And so the group moved on from the Pass, the vegetation becoming thicker, the air bearing the faint odor of the great mire yet some miles ahead, their path leading downward from the rise of Gruwen Pass and on to the Gord River.

Now, having descended from the rise of the Pass, the group turned a little west of north and headed for the small river that flowed from the Gwasp and on into Drearwood. Though the water in this river flowed freely, still, it carried with it the fetid stench decayed vegetation. And, drawing nigh of the rank flow, all in the group winced at the odor permeating the damp air about them.

Reining back on his horse and looking from the small river to his companions as they drew along side him, Kaje voiced a thought that had been in his mind for the past hour. "We are but a league from the Gwasp and still there has been no sign of Foxworthy." Looking up at the sky and noting the position of the sun blazing above, he spoke on: "I deem, at our current pace, we shall be just within the outer edges of the mire. There we shall make camp for the night."

"Perhaps Foxworthy and Rust await us by mire's edge, _chier_," said Faedra as she laid a hand on Kaje's thigh.

"I hope thou art correct, love. Though I would that he return to us before we reach that foul place."

"Maybe he will, maybe he will. Yet we must away from here and on to the mire," said Vanidor even as he urged his steed into the small river flowing before them; the rest following suit.

After traveling for some time since fording the Gord River, the group was now made to travel in a column; two aside at times, single file at others. And still no sign of the small Pysk did any in the group see. Now and again, Kaje and Vanidor would dismount to check the soft ground for sign of the fox's paw prints. This task soon began to slow the progress of the group. For many were the tracks upon the way they fared and discerning the marks of Rust from those of other wild foxes proved to be a formidable task. Yet the path the small fox and its rider fared could usually be picked out of the group for it was the one that never veered from the main path. Or so Kaje and Vanidor hoped.

And so, onward the small group trekked. All in the group ever weary of foe. All in the group concerned for the well being of Foxworthy. All in the group wondering what lay ahead in the days to come. And onward they rode, ever toward the heart of the putrid mire that lay ahead of them.


	21. The Gwasp

****

Chapter Twenty-one

The Gwasp

The Lian guardians that trotted out of the camp that fateful morn numbered fifty strong. Led by Glaven the lost Coron, they rode single file northward to the Gwasp where they would meet up with the others of their band two days hence. Through Gruwen pass they fared, traveling ever northward, toward the rotting land of the great swamp itself.

That first night the quest camped at the edge of the marsh that bordered the environs of the Gwasp, along the Gord River. Long legged marsh birds striding strangely on their stilted legs, walked the cattails in search of minnows and frogs. The _THRUMP_ of frogs and the _SCREE _of crickets gave no evidence of the fetid swamp beyond, all was peaceful.

The next morn, before daybreak, the Lian had already broken camp. Breaking their fasts on mian and cheese which they ate from horseback, the Elves entered the marsh single file, following a game trail that seemed to offer some solid footing for their mounts.

By noon they had entered the great swamp itself. The sweet marsh grasses seeming to give way to by the gnarled branches of dead and stunted trees. The water birds also diminished to be replaced by gorcrows and vultures soaring overhead and roosting on the twisted trunks of the trees.

The party halted to get its bearings and rest the mounts before entering the swamp itself.

Trudging through the marsh was tiring work for the horses and it was decided to leave them behind, for the mud was thick and the footing treacherous.

Soon they were unpacked. Leaving four guardians to tend the horses, they entered the bog. Following the map and path that Alor Kaje had marked out for them. Large clumps of algae clung to their legs and floated on the stagnant water as they trudged ahead. The guardians swatted at the constant cloud of biting insects that swarmed about, alighting on any area of exposed flesh, though none seemed to bother Kane.

A dreadful foreboding came over the four Lian left behind as they watched the company disappear into the dreadful morass, Kane the red haired Mage bringing up the rear.

~*~

Onward through the tortured land the two score and five Lian fared, their progress slow, tedious through the sucking mud and slime. Thrice they had uncoiled their ropes to pull an unfortunate fellow or two from a morass, the quicksand sucking them down. Fortunately they had no casualties, only a few missing boots, victims of the grasping mud.

Great gnarled trunks grasped skyward, their twisted roots coiling through the fetid water like giant snakes. Here and there real serpents coiled on stunted limbs or swam through the murky waters. The eyes of an occasional leviathan could be seen rising through the slime, small evidence of the terrible scaled body and long rows of razor sharp teeth that lurked below the dark waters.

Through this dismal landscape the Guardians trudged, ever northward, seeking the place that Alor Kaje had marked out on the map that Glaven now held out before him, the slapping sound of insects being swatted growing ever more frequent.

They soon came to an area of dry land that rose above the rotting landscape of the swamp, an oasis of sorts, nestled inside the encroaching grasp of the Gwasp. This was the meeting place that Kaje had marked out; here they would wait upon the rest of the quest.

As the Lian made camp that eve among the small copse of healthy trees, Glaven sent out six guardians to scout out the lay of the land. The rest set about cleaning the foul mud and slime from their leathers and weapons.

Stripped to the waist, Kane squatted against the trunk of a large willow tree, resembling some swamp demon himself. Feral blue eyes blazed from beneath the red mane and beard that were plastered to his face with sweat. Rivulets of perspiration streaked the mud and slime that coated his torso, giving the giant a terrible aspect, a look of doom.

Kane pondered the fate of this band of travelers that made camp before him. Strength of arms could stem the tide of evil that flowed from the swamp, but could not extinguish it. It would take a token of power to send Braxus back to the Abyss, and one who knew how to use it!

~*~

Foxworthy and Rust padded into the glade, pausing. Rust sniffed the air, a low growl coming from his throat. Dismounting, the Pysk set arrow to string, and drawing shadows around himself, proceeded forward.

Sometime later, Foxworthy and Rust stood in the deserted camp, the fox still growling low in his throat. Crouching next to the remains of the campfire, Foxworthy felt the coals, only a few hours old. He could tell by the signs that a few members of the party that they were following had camped here, perhaps four or five. The rest had continued northward along a game trail into the Gwasp. The horses had been pasturing a little to the west but were now gone, why?

As Foxworthy pondered this, Rust's ears shot up and he began whining, crouching down low behind the Pysk's legs. A high pitched shrilling filled the air and something large and ponderous could be heard making its way through the marsh, coming toward the camp. Rust remained frozen in fear behind Foxworthy's legs, paws over his ears, and would not budge, though the Pysk tried to get him to flee.

Drawing his bow steeling himself, Foxworthy aimed in the direction of the sound, preparing to defend himself and his friend, to the death if necessary.


	22. Battle

****

Chapter Twenty-two

Battle

The seven reined up in the deserted camp, dismounting. "This is where they camped, the same spot that I marked out upon the map," Kaje stated, scratching his head, "though I see no horses. Surely they did not take their mounts into the swamp itself?"

"Nay, for the camp is too small for the whole group," Vanidor pointed out, poking in the ashes of the firepit. "Only one small campfire. I deem only a few camped here, perhaps to tend the horses." Looking around, he continued, "Though there are no horses or guardians about now."

Dara Phoenix called their attention to the paw prints that mingled with the prints of hooves in the soft ground. "Our little rider of foxes has been here also," she said, "perhaps he has gone into the fell swamp also with our brethren?"

As the Elves pondered the mystery of the deserted camp, Julina wandered around the small campsite humming to herself, wondering if her ancestors ever traveled through a marsh or swamp such as this. The young girl looked at the grasses that had been stomped down to make camp. "Such tall grass," she said, "and only a few trees." Looking at the trees and noticing a wee arrow protruding from one, she walked over to investigate, surely it was one of the Fox Rider's arrows, being so small.

Julina screamed, bringing the others running. Being the nearest, Faedra was the first to reach the young girl who pointed in horror toward the small grove of willow trees. As the weeping Julina buried her face in the Dara's chest, Faedra gaped at what she saw. Oh what foul deed had been done! A broken wee bow and the torn and gore spattered remains of a small green coat and hat were scattered beneath the branches of the willow trees. The surrounding turf had been rent and torn by some huge taloned thing, and nailed to the tree, the torn and bloody pelt of a red fox!

~*~

For two days they had ridden, trying to catch up with the main group. They rode as quickly as they dared, careful not to over exhaust Phoenix. She was a little surprised at her new comrades' concern for her, but she knew they were right.

The first day's ride had been exhausting, even with Spirit's gentle gait. She didn't have much equipment to burden the roan with, just a couple of saddlebags filled with travel rations, some clothes, and a flute. Phoenix looked at the others, all burdened for war, swords gleaming, bows and arrows well cared for. No one had yet asked her why she carried no weapons, though now and again she had caught Julina's questioning eye. Phoenix had sighed and turned her attention back to the path ahead, knowing they were close to the campsite Alor Kaje had told them of.

They had come upon many tracks, much of which had belonged to the Fox Rider. Phoenix wondered where Foxworthy had gone, hoping he was alright, though a feeling of dread had begun to creep into her heart. She hadn't had the chance to speak much with the Pysk, but through what little was said she could tell he had a gentle, kind heart.

To tell the truth none of the party had spoken much in the past day. All were lost in thoughts of their own, each growing more anxious to catch up with the main group, and worrying for the safety of their missing companion.

As they finally rode into the campsite she dismounted from the horse and began to look around. She spotted paw prints that seemed to belong to Rust and called the others' attention to them. Phoenix stared at the tracks in dismay, knowing that something must have happened to the Fox Rider.

Of a sudden Julina screamed and Phoenix jumped to her feet, preparing herself for a battle and rushing to the young girl's side along with the others. She saw Julina throw herself into Faedra's arms, hysterical and pointing towards a small grove of trees.

Phoenix looked to where she pointed and gasped. "Foxworthy," she whispered, "No. Oh, Adon. No." She turned her gaze from the tree, anger welling up within, memories of an almost too familiar scene coming back to her.

Suddenly, Spirit began rearing on his hind legs, pawing the ground and neighing in warning. Phoenix's attention was brought back to the present and she looked up in time to see a raptor circling above. "Ware!! Tis a trap!" she yelled to the others as she gathered her energies and refocused her mind. "Spirit Blade!!" she called out, twin swords of pure silver energy blazing forth from both hands. She let out a strangled cry of rage and threw one of the swords toward the trees, catching one of the vilka in the chest, setting it on fire. Phoenix barely had time to worry for the others as a raptor dove down towards her, talons ready to strike. She glared at the creature, rage making the sword in her hand blaze even brighter, and vowed to herself that these creatures would not leave this campsite alive.

~*~

"Ware!! Tis a trap!!" Kaje heard Phoenix shout. Spinning about to face the Dara, he then looked toward the sky where she pointed. High above the small clearing leathery pinions churned the air. Then, from several points around the clearing, baleful howls emanated forth, menacing red eyes aglow in the surrounding brush. And, drawing one lethal blade from the scabbard at his back, Kaje repeated the warning, "Ware all!! We are ambushed!!"

Turning about searching for Faedra and finding her with sword already drawn and moving towards him, Kaje was taken by surprise as a crackling, silvery blast flew from one hand of Dara Phoenix and slammed into the chest of one of the attacking beasts.

Taking a step back, Kaje shook his head to break the stunned grip on his mind. Looking at Phoenix in wonder and awe, he quickly came to his senses as one of the black beasts flashed past him. Now, bringing his sword to bear, he readied himself as another black beast sped toward him. As the beast drew within reach, Kaje felt someone, or something bump up against his back. Without time to turn and see what had hit him, he lanced out his sword and took the advancing beast in the chest, a gurgling howl coming from the animal's mouth as it fell to the ground, front legs convulsing, hind legs kicking as the thin Ryodian blade was rent from chest to torso and then out.

Bringing his blade up quickly, he chanced a look over his shoulder and found that Faedra fought at his back, the Dara holding her own against the coming foe, blade slathered in dark blood, rage filled shouts emanating from her mouth.

Spinning his one blade about in his hand, Kaje now held the razor sharp katana point down, hilt up. And, as he did so, pulled his other blade from its scabbard at his back. Now, one blade held upright in his left hand, the other, point down, in his right, he fended off two of the beasts as they attacked. One coming at his left and receiving a nice gash upon its side, the other coming from his right and slightly behind; this one having slipped past Faedra as she fended two attacking her.

Jabbing the blade in his right hand out towards the charging vilka, he caught the beast in the left side as it veered to the right. As that cur sped away and then turned to come at him once more, Kaje heard a muffled _THUD _to his left. Glancing that way, he noticed the previously circling raptor laying limp upon the ground, a deadly bolt extending out of its back, blood covered tip pointing toward the sky.

Then, of a sudden, his left leg was knocked out from under him as one of the black beasts slammed into it. Catching himself before hitting the ground, he fended the attack of the charging vilka, one blade taking out the animal's front legs, the other slamming down into its back, spinal column severed, hind quarters separated from torso, entrails spilling out on the ground. Stabbing one sword into the ground for support, he regained his feet despite the growing numbness in his left shin. And, bringing his blades to bear once again, he fought on as the numbness in his leg turned to burning pain.

Every now and again, when not directly engaging the foe or awaiting an attack, Kaje, out of the corner of his eye, caught the flash of Phoenix's silvery energy blades as they hewed down vilka after vilka; those sliced by the crackling blades set to explode or burn to ashes. And still, all around them, the foe came. Wave after wave of dark slathering death seeming to vault from the surrounding brush. Many to be laid to waste even as they flew, others to evade the Elves' diligent offenses and inflict deadly wounds.

In the center of the clearing, Faedra and Kaje stood, back to back, blades adrip with the blood of Braxus' curs, sweat beading upon their foreheads, breath coming in short gasps, arms and legs growing weary from the continued onslaught, hopes of survival diminishing. Yet on they fought.

All about the small clearing lay the rent and bleeding bodies of the fallen vilka. And still they attacked, coming at the Elves from all sides.

"I do not know how much longer I can hold out, _chier_," came Faedra's exhausted voice over Kaje's shoulder.

"Nor do I, love . . . Uuuahh," Kaje grunted as he pulled one of his blades from the hip of a vilka speeding past him. "Choose thy blows wisely . . . try to not o'er tire thyself and mayb . . ." Kaje's voice cut short as he glimpsed a flash of flaming red hair at the edge of the clearing.

Looking to where he espied the flash of color, he now saw that another had joined in the battle as a great sword cut deep swaths in the ranks of the vilka. The massive form hewing down beasts as would one clearing a path in deep grass, the sundered beasts falling before his sword like so many brittle twigs. The man's features appeared twisted with rage, vilkan blood splattered across his face, deep blue eyes burning with an unearthly astral fire, berserked, rage filled oaths emanating from between clinched teeth.

Now, with the addition of Kane, the ebbing tide of the battle slowly began to turn in the Elves' favor. Soon, naught but a handful of the vile beasts remained. Of these only two escaped, badly wounded as they were. And, once all was quiet, allies looking about for more foe and finding naught, all relaxed their fighting posture, swords yet drawn and covered with drying blood and small bits of viscera.

Turning about quickly, Kaje looked at Faedra, the Dara breathing heavily and rubbing her shoulder as she looked at the carnage laying before her. "Art thou wounded, _chier_?" asked Kaje, a look of concern set upon his face.

"Nay, _chier_," Faedra said between breaths. Then, looking to the Alor for any wounds, he covered with the blood of his victims, Faedra stabbed her sword into the ground and placed her hands upon his chest and frantically felt around as if searching for something. Then, running her hands up and down his sides she asked, "Hast thee been wounded, _chier_? I cannot tell for all the blood upon thee."

"I shall be fine, _chier_," Kaje said as he looked about the clearing. Then, toward the far edge where they had entered, he saw the fallen form of Kaelea, that of Vanidor leaning over her, his hands and forearms covered with blood as he tried desperately time and again to revive the Elfess.


	23. Lost Hope

****

Chapter Twenty-three

Lost Hope. After the Battle.

As the sustaining rage left him, so did his strength. Kane staggered into the knee deep, bloody waters at the edge of the clearing and toppled.

Hearing the 'plash, Kaje turned to see the red haired giant, feet still on dry land, bobbing face down in the carnage that he had inflicted moments before. Rushing to Kane's side, Kaje turned him over with a grunt, clearing his face of water and gore.

The giant was not conscious. Since Kane was clad only in his breeks, Kaje could easily scan him for wounds. Aside from the myriad of razor-grass scratches that crisscrossed his powerful torso and arms, no serious wounds could be seen.

Soon Faedra arrived at his side. "Is he slain, _chier_?" she questioned.

"Nay, he still lives," the Alor wrinkled his brow, "though I know not what wound has whelmed him. Help me to get him on dry land, chier."

At this, the Dara grabbed Kane's legs and hefted, "My what a heavy fellow he is," she complained, grunting, as the two dragged him out of the marshy waters.

When Kane was safely on dry land, Faedra hurried off to where Vanidor wept over the fallen Kaelea, calling behind her to her love, "I will see to Kaelea, thou see to Kane!"

As Kaje flicked the last leach from Kane's pale torso with his knife, the eyes of the Mage flickered then opened, his left hand shooting out to grab the front of the Elf's tunic, pulling him close. Though exhausted, the strength of the giant was still formidable. Pulling the head of the Elf down near his own, Kane croaked out a few words before lapsing back into unconsciousness, "DEAD, THEY ARE ALL DEAD!"

~*~

The damman started to run when she heard the sound's of battle from up ahead. Even at a run, bow cocked, she knew she moved silently.

When the message arrived in the Boskydell of a horror astride Mithgar she had known that somehow she was meant to help. Oh, her healing skills could be put to good use, she had no doubt but with her bow she knew she could hold her own in a fight. After all she was the best shot of all the Thornwalkers this year. She had worked hard to get it that way too. So off she went following rumors and such looking for the band of Elves that hunted the beast. Long had she traveled, sometimes traveling with caravans along the way. Other times completely on her own. How she had made it this far only Adon knew.

Coming back to her senses, she came upon the last bit of cover and observed in horror as the last of the foul folk were dispatched by the Elves. Though her bow might not be needed at this time, she knew her healing skills would. Unnocking her bow, though still ready should need arise, she approached the Elves. Throwing back her hood, she spoke. "My name is Sargienka Peacher, I am a friend and healer come to help."

~*~

"Uugh!!" grunted Kaje as Kane pulled the Elf towards his face. The giant man staring intently into the eyes of the Elf, great breaths rasping in and out of his great lungs, droplets of blood mixed with sweat runneling down his forehead. And, propping up on one elbow, Elf pulled to his chest and locked in his grip, the giant man said, "DEAD, THEY ARE ALL DEAD!" Then, as suddenly as he had grabbed up Kaje's tunic and clasped him unto his chest, the giant man released the cloth and fell to the ground, unconsciousness washing over him.

Leaning over Kane and listening to his chest, Kaje could tell that his heart still beat strongly. Sitting back on his feet and looking over the warrior once again, he could see no serious wounds upon his form. Leaning forward and placing a hand on the man's forehead, he felt no fever_. Must be spent . . . _Kaje thought to himself. _I wonder what has become of the army he rode with? I suppose I shall have to wait for him to come around before I . . ._

"My name is Sargienka Peacher, I am a friend and healer come to help," came a voice from over and behind Kaje's shoulder, the Elf whirling about and drawing his sword in the same motion at the sound of the new voice. And, looking at the wee one tramping out of the tall brush near the edge of the clearing, he dropped his guard and sheathed his sword. Ere standing to greet the newcomer, he turned once more to Kane and looked long at the giant man, noting the many small slashes and gashes upon his chest and face. About the large man's neck was something Kaje had not seen him wearing before, a gold chain from which depended a golden and silver amulet. Without giving the object much more thought, he stood and walked over to greet the wee one come to offer "help".

As he walked to greet the wee one, Kaje glanced toward the spot where Kaelea lay; Vanidor leaning over the Dara, sobbing heavily, Faedra with her arms about the Alor offering what comfort she could. And Kaje's heart sunk so that he could hardly walk on towards the Warrow now walking towards him.

Standing in shock at the sight of Kaelea laying upon the ground, lifeless, Vanidor weeping so, Faedra with her arms about him, the two slowly rocking back and forth, Kaje did not hear Sargienka's words as she spoke them . . . "I said, my name is Sargienka Peacher. I am a healer and would like to offer my assistance if it is needed."

Half hearing the Warrow, and half remembering walking to greet her, Kaje shook his head and turned to look at the wee one . . . _This must be some kind of dream_, he thought to himself. _What are Warrows doing in this part of Mithgar? Kaelea is dead, and Kane is unconscious . . ._ Then, looking down at his leg, the burning pain there once again winning through all the other sensory inputs, he looked back at the wee one before him and asked in a very flat voice, "What know thee of vilka poison?"

"Vilka poison? . . . I have never heard of such," Sargienka replied, a puzzled look upon her face.

"Of course thou haven't . . . what was I thinking. Have thee gwynthme?"

"The golden mint? Yes . . . yes I have a suitable amount"

"I hope so my wee friend . . . I hope so. For a goodly amount will be needed for all bitten by these foul beasts," Kaje said as he indicated the vulg-like beasts laying all about the clearing; many in various forms of dismemberment, the warmth from the several open chest cavities rising and forming a mist in the cooling air of the coming night; the sun just now setting past the western rise of Gruwen Pass.

"Come," urged Kaje, "let us build a fire so that we may brew some of the golden mint."

As the two set about gathering wood for the fire, Kaje encountered Julina, the young girl retrieving arrows from her many victims, "Hast thee any wounds, Julina?" he asked.

"Just a few scrapes. Nothing serious. Though I notice that you limp. Are you ok?"

"I shall be fine. When a fire has been built and gwynthme brewed, I would have thee drink some of the brew none the less. Then, I deem, we should remove our selves from this dire place," he said as he once again looked over to where Kaelea lay, the Dara's face now covered with Vanidor's cloak, he and Faedra now standing, holding one another.

Within a candle mark, Sargienka had a small blaze crackling with a small kettle of water suspended above; golden mint, slightly crushed, steeping in the simmering water. Vanidor and Faedra now sitting beside the small fire, the Alor staring into the fire, his face expressionless, eyes swollen from tears. Soon all sat about the small fire, the large form of Kane pulled from the edge of the nearby stream, laying nearby.

As the group sat sipping the warm tea, Kane, yet unconscious, receiving his from Sargienka, the sound of a large "something" moving through the brush at the west of the camp caught their attention. And, hearing the sound, Kaje, drawing both of his swords, jumped to his feet, the pain in his left leg burning fiercely as he did so. Vanidor and Faedra quickly stood and drew their own swords, Julina standing and setting arrow to string, Sargienka quickly looking in the direction of the sound but remaining at Kane's side.

Now, moving from around the fire and arraying themselves in a line with the fire behind them, the four waited for the "thing" moving towards them, swords at the ready, deadly arrow set to fly, breath rasping in yet weary lungs. Having spent the better part of their strength in the recent battle with the vilka, all four knew that should another attack come, they would surely perish. Then, just as the sounds of the tramping beast stopped, from behind the brush directly in front of them, the four heard a great blowing and stamping. And, as the tall weeds and brambles parted, out stepped Nightwind, Kane's massive war horse. And all sighed a breath of relief.


	24. Kane's Tale

****

Chapter Twenty-four

Kane's Tale

"We encamped that night in the glade that thou had marked upon the map." Kane took another long pull from the canteen, coughing. "It was there that we were ambushed, I fear that I alone survived."

The Lian listened intently to Kane's tale, eyes wide. The giant had awakened some four hours before sunset and had immediately counseled them to leave the area. After raising a great stone cairn above the remains of their three fallen comrades; Foxworthy, Rust and Kaelea, they had traveled a league inland, away from the Gwasp and the glade of blood.

In future years, the great pile of stones in that glade would become known as the Cairn of Kaelea, though three worthy comrades were actually buried there.

Now they sat before a blazing fire, chewing on their meager rations, listening to a tale of the fate of their erstwhile companions, the fifty that had entered the evil swamp. As the fire danced in the depths of his eyes, Kane remembered aloud the happenings of the previous dawn, the dawn of death. "There was nought they could do, the Spectres could not be harmed with normal weapons, they have no physical form."

"How then could they slay our fellows?" Vanidor questioned, "if they possess no solid form?" The Lian said this with distrust written across his face, he had never trusted the Mage and now with the giant being the only survivor of an entire war-party, his distrust grew.

"Though they inflict no physical wounds," Kane continued, "they drain the very life, the very soul from their victims, leaving nought but dried husks in their wake," again a pull from the canteen, followed by coughing. "Though it is rare for them to be strong enough to do this on the physical plane."

Vanidor opened his mouth to speak but Kane answered his question unasked, "They must be powerful indeed to do this, and many."

Kane could see the unasked questions and distrust written on the face of the Elf.

"My training alone allowed me to shield my mind from the fear and attacks of the Spectres," Kane said angrily. "Would you rather that I had perished also?"

Vanidor turned away, the Mage had read him as easily as if he had been an open scroll. Throwing down his bowl, the Alor fled into the woods, away from the fire that illuminated his face and his growing hatred. He had lost many friends that day and he blamed Kane for it, somehow he blamed Kane.

Turning back to the fire, Kane stared into its depths, his features unreadable. After a silent hour had passed, Vanidor not returning, Kane continued his tale. "I wandered the swamp, lost for a time, whelmed of body and mind, exhausted, I sat down to rest."

Kane took a bite from the mian that he held in his other hand. "I know not how long I sat among the slime and bracken, only that I heard the sounds of battle. Upon hearing the noise, I arose and hurried in that direction. Bursting through the trees, I came upon the lot of you slaying the wolf creatures. That is all I remember."

"We should have gone with them!" Dara Phoenix shouted, leaping to her feet, "I was well enough to travel and fight. We could have turned the battle, we could have saved them!"

"Nay Phoenix," interrupted Faedra, "thou hast heard the tale, as have we all." The Dara indicated the red haired giant. "I deem we would all now lay dead among the marsh grass had we not tarried."

"Aye, _chier_," agreed Kaje. "Had not Julina espied the remains of our dear friend Foxworthy," the Alor's voice wavered at the memory of his friend and a tear rolled down his face. "We would surely already have entered the swamp and been attacked upon unsure ground."

The questers fell silent, what would they now do? What course of action was left to them? "We must rest now and consider our actions on the morrow," said Kaje finally, rising from his place beside the Warrow. "I will take first watch." At this, the rest rolled into their blankets, though no one would actually rest.

~*~

Kane fingered the amulet that depended from the leather thong around his neck. He had noticed the sylvan Kaje eyeing it. Did the Lian recognize the talisman? Did he glimpse the truth? Could he even fathom the irony that lay behind Kane's possession of the token?

As Kane caressed the dark, silveron encrusted stone, he could feel the awesome powers that slept beneath its ebon surface. The crimson haired giant grinned, perhaps the price that had been paid for its acquisition had not been too high.

Rummaging through the saddlebags of his black charger, Nightwind, the Mage unrolled a new shirt and pulled it over his head, tucking the amulet beneath the folds of the coarse woven tunic.

Only a few days had passed, yet his scratches and cuts had already closed. Even the deepest of his wounds from days past were healed, betrayed only by a few fading pink traces that crisscrossed his body. All of his companions were dumbfounded by his quick recovery, especially the wee one, Sargienka, a healer by trade.

Talisman hidden from prying eyes, Kane returned to the fire, once again assuming his place between Dara Phoenix and Sargienka the Warrow, the eyes of Vanidor glaring from across the fire.


	25. A New Plan

****

Chapter Twenty-five

A New Plan. To Drearwood.

The plan had been laid, the timetable set, the camp packed and fasts broken. The small group had then headed out, traveling around to the west of the Gwasp, taking two days to do so. Kane had spoken of an eld road there, written of in an ancient moldering tome that he had discovered in his research millennia agone. In search of this ancient pathway of yore, this alternate route, they now headed.

After crossing the Gord River, they finally came to the river Gul, along which the old trail was said to run. Here, the river's cool clear flow mingling with the rancid dark waters of the great swamp. The party fanned out, seeking any trace of the erstwhile road. Soon the realization set in that the 'scape had changed much in the aeons since the ancient tome had been written. The Swamp now engulfed more lands than at that elder time. Into the swamp they fared, probing in the mud and bracken for signs of the old stone track.

"HOI!" came the shout from Sargienka, "Here are some mortared stones laid flat." 

The other searchers converged on the spot, Faedra clapping the wee one across the back. "Well done my little one," the Dara congratulated. "Well done indeed."

Eyeing the lay of the submerged stones, which extended a mere dozen feet, Faedra agreed with Kane's earlier tale of the direction that the track was supposed to go. "Due east as thou said Kane, the road should go . . . there . . . between those two rotting oaks." The Dara pointed to two dead giants, decomposing in the dark waters of the swamp.

Marking the spot with a stick and piece of cloth that Aravan produced, the questers plodded back to dry land to gather weapons and supplies for the renewed trek into the Gwasp.

"I think the Warrow should stay and tend the horses," Kane said.

"WHAT!" Sargienka ejaculated, "I think not, you stay you big red bully. I came to fight Foul Folk, and as sure as we are standing here, that's what I'm gonna do." She puffed out her lower lip and waved her bow in the direction of the Mage.

"Listen pip squeak . . ." Kane said, moving in the direction of the Warrow, "you are certainly too small for . . ."

Kaje interrupted the giant, "We will draw straws," he suggested, holding up a handful of stiff grass stalks. Sargienka drew one and stuck out her tongue at Kane.

"Hhhrrrummmphhh," the giant puffed, "I am shackled with children and fools!" As everyone stared at him, eyebrows raised, Kane threw up his hands in resignation. "Very well, I shall draw."

Aravan held up the short stalk. He would stay with the horses.

~*~

Though it ran due east, following the remains of the old stone pathway proved difficult. Little of the path remained to be seen, only random stretches poking through the swamp grass and algae. Yet follow this road of elden times they did, slogging through the fetid, waist deep waters. Deep into the great swamp they delved, Kaje sometimes carrying the Warrow upon his shoulders when the morass proved too deep for the wee damman.

~*~

As the quest disappeared from view, Aravan sat down next to where the horses were tethered, upon a small peninsula that jutted into the vast mire. Would he see any of them again, he thought. Only Adon knew, only Adon knew.

~*~

Silence. No frogs. No birds. No crickets. Nothing. No sound but the buzzing of gnats and blood sucking vermin, all other sounds had ceased.

Crouching low in the rancid waters beside the moldering remains of a stone gateway, Kane cocked his head to the side and listened. He then motioned for all to hold their positions, for all to remain silent. They waited. Soon, a strange sound could be heard, an ominous sound, rising in volume above the buzzing of the insects. The sky was soon filled with the beat of leathery pinions. A vast horde of flying things rose above the horizon. Over the dead trees of the swamp it came, the great dark swarm covering the heavens and blotting out the very sun. The sky was filled with dark flying beasts of every description, some man-like, others bat-like, flying south over the Gwasp.

The seven crouched low in the morass as the swarm winged overhead, remaining motionless in the slime and rot. As quickly as the swarm appeared it was gone. Then, after the beating of leathery wings had passed, they rose from the slime.

Gazing to the south, Kaje was the first to speak. "I see that Braxus has increased the number of his minions. How shall we fight an army so vast?"

Faedra was at his side, placing her comforting hand on his shoulder. "We shall do what we must, _chier_," she said. "We shall do what we must."

"I see no need to continue on if the horde has left," Vanidor stated. He now sat atop a pile of lichen covered stone rubble, pouring foul water from his boots. Sargienka stood on the rocks next to him.

"The tomb of the Black Mage . . . should be just ahead," said Kane, pointing to the east. "We should continue on . . . To see if any vermin yet remain." He had other reasons than those divulged to check out the ancient burial place, but those secret reasons he kept to himself.

With a wave of his hand, Vanidor cut the giant off. "Nay, that was surely the entire horde we saw flitting to the south, and that huge demon in the fore was Braxus himself. I deem it is to the Drearwood they have gone. It is an evil place of old."

"Alor Vanidor is right," Kaje agreed. "We should not risk continuing through this evil place, let us be gone." The Warrow that perched next to him nodded her approval; this was an evil place indeed.

"I will continue to the Tomb," said Kane, shouldering his pack and harness. "Release Blackwind when you gain the camp. He will come to me at my bidding when I return." With this the crimson maned giant turned abruptly and splashed off through the muck, heading for the reputed burial place of an ancient Black Mage, the others staring at his broad back, mouths agape.

~*~

The swarm of devils flew southward, crossing from marshy to dry land. At the southern reaches of the swamp, a large pack of wolf creatures awaited their arrival, then fell in behind, howling and loping along in a great moving pack. Southward flew the swarm and southward, led by the Demon prince Braxus. To the great forest of the Drearwood it flew, the huge pack of wolf-beasts padding along in its wake.

As the devils and canines disappeared into the reaches of the Drearwood, they did not go unnoticed. They had been shadowed at a distance by another small group of canines even as they left the reaches of the Gwasp itself. Great silvery wolves, following along behind to stop short at the boundary of the old forest. The small pack seemed to confer together amongst themselves for a time, then sped off to the east, a huge silver-gray wolf in the lead.

~*~

"Are we to just let him go?" asked Faedra, the Dara looking around at the others as she spoke; Kane yet wading down the small stream, then moving out of sight as the flowing way curved around a large growth of vines and brush.

"Leave him go," gritted Vanidor. "I have had about all of his condescendence that I can stand."

Turning from the way the large man had strode, Kaje looked to the others in the group, "Well, be that as it may, I would have us return to the horses and then plot our course on to the Drearwood. Too, we should probably set camp. For the sun shall set soon and I would not have us out upon the wold in the dark."

"I could do with a bite to eat," intoned Sargienka, the wee Warrow rubbing her belly as she spoke.

"I don't care where we sleep tonight," Julina said as she swatted at gnats, "just as long as it's out of this bedamned swamp and away from these infernal bugs."

"Then it's settled. Let us back to dry land and away from this fetid stench," Kaje said even as he began wading back the way they had come.

After some time of slogging through the putrid water of the small stream, the group came to dry land and their waiting horses. As the group approached Aravan, the Elf questioned the whereabouts of Kane. Telling the Alor of the warrior's plan of trekking on into the swamp and his request to set free Nightwind, Kaje suggested that they now ride back to the Gul River and set camp there. Speaking with Aravan as they rode, Kaje told him of their plans to travel on to Drearwood.

Having traveled for a few hours, the group arrived at the Gul River and set camp. After a small fire had been built, each retrieved a small amount of mian from their saddlebags and then sat about the fire as they ate. When all had finished eating, a large map was laid out on the ground and a course plotted. The path chosen would see the group traveling for some two days; the morn of the third would see them at the northern edge of the dark wood.

"I must find a suitable spot in yon river to wash the foulness of that cursed swamp from my body," Faedra said disgustedly.

"Give me a moment, _chier_, for I would join thee," Kaje said looking up from the small fire and to the Dara as she arose.

As the two gathered a few things from their horses, Vanidor and Aravan spoke with the others concerning the coming trek to Drearwood; Julina and Sargienka listening intently to the conversation. Though the two had heard tell of the dark place, nether had ever trod therein, nor, mainly because of the tales they had heard concerning the place, did they ever care to. But, as with all times of peril, matters force people to do things they would normally not.

During a break in the Elves' conversation, Julina asked, "Just what makes this 'Drearwood' such a terrible place?"

Aravan and Vanidor looked to each other, Aravan canting his head toward the other. Looking back toward Julina and Sargienka, Vanidor answered, "For one thing, the trees and vegetation within are very dense. Yet within this tightly woven fabric of growth there thrives many creatures of the lower plane: Rucha, Loka, Ghulka, maybe a few Trolls. Too, some say, within that dark place there are living trees and vines. These some would call 'Hidden Ones'. Though I have never ventured over far into the dark wood, I have it on good word," he now glancing at Aravan then back to the two across the fire from him, "that therein dwells Pysk, and a vast number of living stones, and earthen mounds of the same like."

Phoenix listened quietly as Vanidor explained to Julina and Sargienka about Drearwood. She was lost in thoughts of her own concerning all that had happened. It was hard to believe that Foxworthy and Kaelea were both gone. She knew how Vanidor felt, even though the pain wasn't the same. She may not know how it feels to have lost a truelove, but she knew the pain of feeling like you lost part of your very soul. She missed her own twin so much, this entire mission was bringing the pain back to the surface.

"I have heard talk of such beasts dwelling there," said Sargienka, the wee damman looking up from where she poked at the fire with a stick. "My Granther use to tell tales about such terrible beasts and the many places they lived. These were the dire creatures said to come and snatch up dammans and buccans that disobeyed their Sire and Dame. And, if it were true, I would have been snatched up many a time."

At this both Vanidor and Aravan let out a loud laugh. Julina and Sargienka joining in the mirth. Then, through his chuckles, Aravan asked, "Well my wee friend, thou wouldst claim thyself to have been of an unsaintly manner as a child?"

Sargienka merely displayed a coy smile in response. The innocent look upon her face sending all into even greater gales of laughter.

After the laughter had quieted down, a dark expression came over Vanidor's features as he stared into the fire. "Kaelea and I used to share many laughs. Now she is gone from this life and I am yet here to grieve for her. But I say this . . . her death will not have been in vane. For I shall exact brutal revenge on Braxus and his cursed spawn." The others sitting around the fire saying naught as the Elf quickly stood and walked away from the camp and off into the surrounding darkness.

Speaking up, as to answer the unspoken question both Julina and Sargienka shared, Aravan said, "It will be quite some time before his grieving is quelled . . . and his thirst for revenge is slacked. And I will tell you now, as with most of Elven kind in like situations, he will be given to flights of desperate rage. Often times seeming uncaring to others and short of temper. Yet he is to not be blamed. For it is the way of Elves to choose a mate for life. A life that can span an untold number of millennia. And when one of the two is slain, or dies, it is an unimaginable burden of grief that is placed upon the one yet living." Then, looking at the two small figures sitting across the fire from him, he added, "So I ask that ye blame him not if he lashes out at either of thee. For it is not the person lashing out, but the persons grief."

Phoenix sighed and glanced up as Vanidor walked quickly from the camp. She knew there was nothing anyone could say to him to ease his pain and nodded in silent agreement to Aravan's words. Her own sorrow was something she tried to keep buried deep within.

She shook her head to clear it of such thoughts and focused on the mission ahead of them. They would need to have clear heads in order to defeat Braxus. 

Julina and Sargienka nodded to the Elf's words, both feeling a deep pity for the Elf and his loss; Julina turning and looking away in the direction Vanidor had walked, Sargienka looking back to the fire and brushing away the tears forming in her eyes, Aravan breathing a heavy sigh. Naught was said until Kaje and Faedra returned from the river. Then, after some small talk between the three Elves, all but Aravan took to their bedrolls. 

Phoenix wondered what these next few days held in store for all of them and hoped that she would have the strength to see this mission through. Even as she prepared herself for sleep she let her thoughts wonder over the foul creatures and their leader. Did this small band really have a chance of winning? And what about Kane? What was he really after? Phoenix lay upon her back and gazed at the stars, letting sleep overtake her and hoping that they would all indeed have the strength to win this new battle for Mithgar.

~*~

Vanidor, returning to camp in the early hours of the morn, found Kaje standing watch; he having relieved Aravan at mid of night. And, saying little to Kaje, Vanidor took to his bedroll; the Alor falling asleep rather quickly.

~*~

As he walked the perimeter of the camp, Kaje would periodically draw one of his swords and look at the ruby eyes of the jade dragon inlaid in the hilt of the handle. On one of these occasions he noticed that the eyes glowed slightly yet he did not awaken any of the others. Instead he stood and watched the eyes to discern if the glowing grew or withered. And, as he did so, the light of the full moon seemed to wane slightly. Quickly looking up toward the glowing orb, he saw, or thought he saw, the black figures of several winged beasts flying toward the north; flying back toward the dismal mire of the Gwasp.


	26. The Crypt

****

Chapter Twenty-six

The Prisoner. The Crypt.

__

There it was again, a bright light, flashing in the darkness. 

Where am I, What is this place? 

Another burst of brightness.

Soon more, the interval between them growing smaller and smaller, and sounds with the flashes of light! 

What sounds though, hard to make it out, a roar like that of the ocean.

The flashes of light growing together to become a pale red glow.

What is that, screams mayhap, YES! the roar giving way to screams, terrible, awful screams, Oh make it stop!

Pain also, I feel overwhelming pain! 

The screaming is mine!, OH THE AGONY !

Glaven regained consciousness, awaken by the hideous screams of his own agony. He lay spread-eagle, stretched upon the cold lid of an ancient stone coffin, naked. Before him swayed the hideous face of a demon, a face that he well knew.

Clenched in the taloned fist of the demon was a red-hot iron, bits of smoking flesh seared to its glowing end.

"Awake at last I see", the awful face sneered, "This time you shall not escape my clutches".

Glaven stared up into the horrible features of Braxus, demon lord of the abyss.Braxus motioned to a dark figure that stood in the shadows. As the figure came close, Glaven gasped, for before him swayed a phantom, a nightmare creature, a Spectre. 

"He seemed to be the leader my lord", the ebony figure said, " therefore we… I, spared him for thy pleasures."

"Though I ordered you to capture one of the jewel-eyed wee folk", Braxus hissed, "this prisoner will do nicely…FOR NOW!" 

Azrael bowed, withdrawing from the crypt, a hidden look of hatred upon his face. 

Braxus again turned his yellow fanged gaze upon the Eld Lian stretched before him, his hideous laughs echoing through the chambers of the tomb.

~*~

Kane peered into the darkness, listening. After a few moments he ducked his head to clear the rune carven lintel and stepped inside the tomb. The pungent smell of feces and urine were mingled with the scent of sulfur and brimstone, assaulting his nostrils and causing his eyes to burn. The rancid smell of death hung thick in the air. This had indeed been the lair of a demon.

This Antechamber had been cleared of its contents and now held a huge throne constructed of bones. Laced together with sinew and other abominable things, it sat in the corner, evil testament to its former occupant. Eyeing the throne, Kane noted a few fresh skulls attached thereon, gobbets of rotten meat still hanging from the clean white bone.

In the next room, the burial chamber, Kane discovered a huge sarcophagus. His eyes gleamed as he beheld the legendary burial place of Cronthos the black mage. The crypt had not lain undisturbed; it had been desecrated with all manner of filth. . The graceful runes that had been carved around the stone coffin had been obliterated. The lid of the sarcophagus lay to one side with a corpse bound upon. The remains were those of a flayed and tortured thing, a thing that had once lived, a thing that had once breathed, but now lay cold and dead. Kane focussed his attention on this first corpse 'ere continuing his exploration of the moldering ruin. 

It could be seen by the muscle structure that the remains belonged to a male, though of what race was not readily apparent. Kane approached the corpse peering down upon it, inspecting it. He viewed the tortured corpse with the uncanny eye of an expert in the art. He had seen worse…. He had even done worse, though not in a thousand years. Most of the skin had been cut and burned away, even it's manhood had been removed, but the face had been left for all to see, the face of Glaven the lost Coron.

Kane remembered with detached emotion a time in the past, a time when he felt the caress of the flencing knife upon his own flesh. The feeling as it carved through the flesh slowly, ever so slowly. What exquisite agony, what purifying pain it had caused. With a shake of his scarlet haired head, Kane returned to the present and continued his grisly search.

In the opened casket, the mummified remains of the ancient mage Cronthos lay in silent repose, a silveron sword jutting from the shrunken ribcage. The tales were true! The famed sword of Cronthos did exist! and he now gazed upon it! Kane's eyes glowed with an eerie light as his fingers closed about the wire wound hilt of the weapon. 

With the rasping sound of metal on ancient bone, Kane withdrew the silveron sword from the dry husk of the ancient wizard. With his other hand he fumbled to retrieve the amulet from beneath his shirt. Tearing his tunic in his haste, Kane grabbed the medallion that hung from his neck and with a sharp tug, tore it loose, snapping the leather thong on which it was slung. 

Kane gibbered in his excitement, all senses lost. His blue eyes burned with purpose, flashing in the gloom, his hoarse laughs resounding through the small stone rooms of the ancient burial place. 

Laying the sword upon the stones, Kane pried the stone of the amulet loose from its silveron setting. Turning it over in his hands, he noted the sigils of power carved thereon. It was indeed a token of power that he held. Taking hold of the sword, Kane began unwrapping the wire from the hilt.

As the wire coiled upon the floor, his grin widened, for his unwrapping exposed a small concave in the surface of the bone hilt. Once again taking the stone in hand, he jammed the token into the concave in the hilt. The fit was perfect, the stone of power was returned to its rightful place at last. He then rewrapped the wire to hold the crystal in place.

Raising the now glowing sword on high, Kane laughed at the heavens laughed at the very Gods, his ivory white teeth gleaming 

As Kane exulted upon the sword now in his possession, an unexpected transformation began to take place. The glow of the shiny silveron began to dim, its bright radiance slowly replaced by an eerie dark luminescence. Kane stared at the weapon as the blade continued to darken, finally becoming totally black. Even the hilt of the sword took on the ebon hue.

Caught up as he was in his own excitement, Kane failed to notice the dim light that gleamed in the eyes of the shrunken corpse. He did not hear the low hiss that came from stiff and blackened lips or the tortured creaking of dried vertebrae as the emaciated head turned in his direction. Nor did he see the shrunken and yellowed hand of the ancient corpse as it slowly, ever so slowly reached over and clamped upon the still bloody remains of the former Coron of the Lian. 

For how long he stared at the black sword, lost in its depths Kane did not know. Only that he was slowly being led down and down into some vast dark well, the voices drawing him on and on. Somehow in his freefall into oblivion, he sensed a danger, he was too comfortable, too relaxed given the present circumstances. He tried to withdraw his will from the pool of darkness into which he now descended.

Laughter, deep evil laughter greeted his effort, the laughter of the sword. "Come fool", it droned, " Join with me and be one." With a Herculean effort, Kane pulled his will loose from the web of deceit that had been fostered upon his unwitting mind, fled from the mental prison that threatened to engulf him, promising to steal his very soul.

Kane cursed and flung the sword from him. It careened from the stone wall to fall ringing on the cold granite floor. He shivered. Never again would he lower his guard. Never again would he fall under the spell of the sentient sword. But what a weapon, if it could be controlled it could be an awesome and powerful ally.

As he thought about these things, contemplating his next step, his ears picked up a faint scratching, a scrabbling coming from behind the sarcophagus. Then, as he watched in dread, the corpse of Cronthos emerged from behind it the stone coffin. Pulling it self along with its atrophied arms, reaching for the weapon that he had thrown but moments before. 

Kane jumped to his feet. Racing to the weapon, he retrieved it from the dust just as the hand of the corpse groped for it, the bony hand closing on thin air.

A hideous wailing filled the crypt, rising to a high screech that threatened to burst Kane's ears. The red haired mage fled from the tomb of the ancient wizard. Even as his booted feet hit the water, he glanced back to see the screaming head of the dead wizard peering from the ruined tomb, eyes aglow in the darkness. 

~*~

A shrill whistle split the air, followed by the drumming of hooves as the great black war-horse responded to the call of its master. Crashing through the brush, leaves and turf flying wide, the huge stallion skidded to a stop before a mud and slime encrusted giant.

Wearing naught but a pair of torn breeks and a strange black sword strapped across his back, the giant vaulted into the saddle and with a hearty "HAI NIGHTWIND!" tore out across the glade, glancing quickly behind for any sign of pursuit.

~*~

Back at the tomb, newly enthroned upon the hideous chair of bones, the corpse of Cronthos pondered its new situation. The Lich had been bound for untold centuries by the sword and now was free, free at long last. 

The undead mage gazed upon the now shrunken remains of the lian that had nourished him. A living host would have been better, would have strengthened him further but he must make due with the material that was at hand. 

No amount of sorceries would bring life again to the dead body that he now inhabited, but the corpse flesh could be rejuvenated indefinitely, provided a plentiful supply of victims could be found. 

If only the huge, red haired one, stealer of the sword could have been taken. Cronthos could not have even hoped to overtake the powerful giant given his current weakened state. The huge red haired man had fled at the sight of the Lich though, leaving it a mute point.

The undead mage laughed at the fate of the red haired giant. Surely the man did not know what he had done. He had replaced the power crystal again in its place in the hilt of the weapon, bringing to life that dreadful entity that dwelt within, and releasing Cronthos from the bondage of the dark sword.

~*~

Cursing, Kane reigned in his great black charger. Two days of hard riding to the south and east had brought him once again to Gruwen pass at the foothills of the majestic Gronfang Mountains.

Hauling left on the reigns he brought the stallion around to face the west, staring in the direction of the Drearwood, into the setting sun. The large horse let out a "WHUFF" of dismay at the rough handling by his master.

A few moments later, the rider seemed to shake whatever thoughts held him in thrall loose from his wandering mind. Turning once again to the southeast the warrior-mage put spur to flank, only to jerk the ebon steed again to a stop after a dozen heartbeats.

"Yes Nightwind you can rest a moment now", he said drawing the black sword and gazing at it " I have the sword. That is what I came after, that is all I need", he patted his mount. " Those Lian surely can take care of themselves. They do not need the likes of me hanging around, ruining their little party. They desire not the company of Kane." 

Nightwind rolled his eyes at his rider as if to say ENOUGH!

Kane turned in the saddle and looked back to the east, then and shook his wild maned head in defeat. "CURSED ELVES!" he spat, "SURELY THEY WILL BE THE DEATH OF ME YET!"

Sheathing the ebon blade, he kicked his war-horse in the flanks and sped off in the direction of that dreadful wood known as the Drearwood, into the setting sun.


	27. Talk

****

Chapter Twenty-seven

Nightmares. Talk.

__

She stood in darkness in the middle of a swamp. The Khalian Mire. Dreaming again, she knew, but unable to stop what she knew was coming. She saw the body of her twin laying at the feet of a black mage. His laughter was ringing through the foul swamp, echoing through her very soul. Phoenix could only stare, she tried to cover her ears but found that she could not even do that. His laughter was hideous as he gloated over the broken body of Rayne. He looked towards Phoenix then and said a single word, "Coward." It was Rayne's voice. 

Phoenix tried to scream, tried to draw a weapon she knew she didn't have, tried to convince herself it was just a dream. But she knew the truth. This wasn't just a dream, it was truth itself. Finally the mage disappered, his laughter fading with him. So too did Rayne's body disappear, only to be replaced by that of a small child. Phoenix moaned in anguish now and sank to her knees, not wanting to face the truth. 

The small child looked at her with sad eyes and spoke. "Why couldn't you save me? Why did you let me die?" 

Phoenix tried to explain that she had done what she could, tried to say something to the spirit of the child. No words came though, and the child just faded away. 

Silence now, and nothing but darkness, the dream continued. Phoenix looked up and found herself gazing into the eyes of a small Pysk. "Foxworthy," she whispered, "Not you too." She gasped then as she saw the form of Kaelea behind him. "Oh Adon. Forgive me. I couldn't save them either." 

The two just looked at her and of a sudden evil laughter pierced her senses. She screamed then, in her dream, and woke with a start. 

Phoenix looked around wildly, remembering where she was and hoping she didn't cry out in her sleep. No one seemed to have noticed and Phoenix rose from her bedroll with a sigh. She knew she would get no more sleep this night. Wearily she walked to where Kaje sat, still on watch. 

He looked up at her approach and said, "Phoenix, thou still have time to sleep. Thou should rest." 

She shook her head, "Nay Kaje. I deem I shall get no more sleep this night." She sat down with a sigh and looked at him. "Kaje, dost thou feel like talking? I still don't know much of what is going on. Or even the story of what brought thee and thy love together. Will thou tell me? Or dost thou wish to rest while I take the rest of this night's watch?"

"What brought me and Faedra together?" Kaje said more than asked. "I suppose I could say it all started some millennia ago...maybe two, their upon the high plane. At the time I was quite young...two-hundred seasons to be exact. It was about this time that I made the acquaintance of Galador. And, through meeting him, I met Faedra. At the time they were boon companions and I but an outsider soon to be intertwined in their relationship; though I did not know it at the time."

Looking up from his crossed hands to Phoenix, Kaje motioned for her to sit beside him. After she had sat down, he continued: "As the years passed, Galador, Faedra and me spent much time together; I learning the ways of battle from Galador, and, as it turned out, beginning to experience a growing love for the Dara; though I said naught of it. Then came the day that Galador told me he planed to take Faedra as his life-mate; this caused much turmoil in my thoughts and feelings. I did not know it at the time but Faedra and Galador had been lovers for some time; sometimes love is blind to such things. And, as you can imagine, upon learning of it, this caused much pain in my soul. So, being the young headstrong Elf that I was, I challenged Galador to a duel for the hand of Faedra. A duel which he of course refused. Yet I was determined to fight for what I wanted...no mater what the costs."

Now, looking once again at his hands while he spoke, he could not help but feel the deep guilt and remorse those memories brought. And, glancing toward Phoenix, he flashed her a quick smile ere looking back to his hands. "So, at my diligent demands, Galador was force into the duel; as reluctant as he may have been. As for the duel, it did not last long. After but a few swings of the our swords, Galador's blade found a small hole in my defenses. And this," he said as he looked back toward the Dara and placed a finger under the thin white scar upon his cheek, "is the end result."

"I had often wondered about thy scar," said Phoenix. "I guess now I know."

"A scar received in an ill-fated duel," Kaje said half disgustedly as he once again gazing at his hands. "A duel that should have never happened. Yet it did. And, when Galador's blade struck me, he refused to fight no more." Now, looking up form his hands and letting his gaze sweep the camp, he spoke on, "It was at then that I decided to leave the high plane and come to the middle. And, after some years on this plane, and many more after having met thee, I decided to return to Arden. It was at this time that I met up with Faedra again. Yet by this time Galador had been slain by the Rupt. And Faedra was left to grieve for him."

Leaning forward and resting his arms on his legs, he turned and looked at Phoenix. "After some time, Faedra passed her time of grieving. It was then that we came to be as we are today."

"A sad yet happy tale," Phoenix said as she sat beside Kaje, her fingers toying with a blade of grass pulled from the ground, then tossing it away.

"Aye it is," said Kaje, the Alor once again gazing at his hands. "Though I am sad at the lose of Galador, I am happy that Faedra and I have found love. Yet had we not, I would have naught for her but happiness. For she has seen much grief, and deserves no less than that."

Hearing Sargienka approaching, both Kaje and Phoenix looked up to greet the Warrow. "Good eve my friend!" said Kaje, Phoenix doing likewise.

"Good eve to the both of you," said Sargienka as she seated her self on the ground facing the two Elves. "What shall be our path from here?" she asked.

"From here we head south...south into Drearwood," said Kaje. "And once there, we shall enter. Yet fear not the many tales ye have heard of the dark wood. For I deem all we shall encounter within will be Braxus and his get."

"No mounds to attack us?" asked Sargienka, a wry smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. "No spindly vines to snare our feet? Or other such cunning things?"

"Nay little one," said Phoenix. "Though there are such creatures living therein, they shall permit us within."

Sargienka now looked at the Dara with a questioning look; Kaje answered her unspoken question.

"Ever since such has lived in that wood, there has been an understanding between Elves and Hidden Ones. That being, we bode them no harm, nor they us. Yet if they wished, they could give us much trouble. But, if they are as sensitive to the presence of evil beings as I think they are, they may welcome us if we bring hope of removing Braxus from their home."

"I certainly hope so," said Sargienka; she now looking about the camp as if looking for some as yet unseen mound or vine or shadow lurking in the dark and preparing to attack.

"I would not fear such," said Vanidor as he approached the three sitting upon the ground. "For as Kaje has said, they may welcome our presence in their home if they think we can remove Braxus and his lackeys." Now standing among the group and looking down at them, he said, "Kaje, thee can take to thy bed. For it is now my time at watch."

"I shall not argue that point," said Kaje as he stood, Phoenix and Sargienka standing as well. Then, looking at the two he had been talking with, he said, "I would have both of ye to bed as well. For on the morrow we shall ride long and hard to reach the dark wood."

"I am a bit tired," said Phoenix as she wriggled her shoulders about. "And a bit sore. My back, though much improved, still aches a bit."

"Rest is what thee needs most," said Vanidor. "Though I have done all I can for thee, rest is what thine back needs now."

"Thou art right," said Phoenix, an understanding look upon her face as she walked away and toward her bedroll.

Now, stretching her arms high above her head and yawning, Sargienka nodded as she said, "Aye, rest for the back. Though mine has not been injured, I believe it shall feel as if it had after the long ride we shall see tomorrow."

Laughing as the wee one finished her yawn, Kaje said, "Aye my friend. As shall all of ours."

Leaving Vanidor to his watch and walking to is bedroll, Kaje wondered as to the fate of Kane and if they would encounter the large warrior again. To both of these questions, he had no answer. Yet, knowing the might and cunning of Braxus and his curs, he hoped that the mage warrior would rejoin their group. For his skills in battle would be needed. 

~*~

Phoenix stared down at her bedroll, a frown crossing her face. She shook her head and turned away from it, walking instead towards her saddlebags. From within one of the packs she took out her flute case, letting the pack itself fall back to the ground. Gazing southward she let out a deep sigh, "Drearwood," she thought to herself, "Soon we shall be within, but are we truly prepared for what awaits us?" Shaking her head of such thoughts she turned and headed back to her bedroll, knowing she shouldn't venture out of camp like she had done before. 

Once back she sat down crosslegged upon the ground and gazed thoughtfully at the black wooden case in her hands. It was made from the branch of an eld tree, one that had fallen long ago. Her sire had fashioned the case from the wood and given it to her, along with a flute her dam had made for her in lost Atala. Phoenix smiled at the memories and began to think on what Kaje had told her. She would never have guessed his scar would've come from a duel fought over the hand of Faedra. _Indeed_, she thought, _We are fools when we are young._

A slight smile playing at her mouth, she opened the case, soft silk greeting her fingertips. Taking the flute from its soft bed, she brought it to her lips, but hesitating she lowered it back into her lap. I may not be able to sleep, but that doesn't mean I should wake the others.

Instead of playing soft, silvery notes, she took a cleaning rag from the case and began to polish the already gleaming instrument. Thoughts lost in such a simple task, she closed her eyes and began to refocus her mind. Calling upon her life's energy, her "ki", she sought to heal and focus her weary spirit. She concentrated on the soreness of her back, the "ki" gently working to relieve the dull ache. As the energy flowed through her, her hands stopped their simple task, and Phoenix let meditation take her. Indeed, she would need a focused mind in the days to come. Though she knew not what or who Braxus was, she would be prepared to face what lay in store for her. For all of them.

~*~

Dara Phoenix meditated, lost in the white void of her mind, cleansing thoughts healing her body and soul. _Strange_, she thought, _There it is again_. An uneasiness pervaded her thoughts. She wandered the recesses of her own mind, seeking the source of the coldness that seemed to wash over her the last three nights as she meditated. " There it is", she thought' as she saw it. A grayness in the milky whiteness of her meditating mind.

_What could this mean?_ she thought, a sudden stab of fear striking her. Casually, the Dara tried to withdraw from the void, to awaken once again within her body, yet she could not! Some strong pull kept her from escaping the void. 

Suddenly, as if seeing her, the dark spot sped toward her. She turned to flee but the dark blot was quicker, overtaking her and engulfing her very thoughts. It was a foreign mind, somehow invading her meditation, her private domain.

"SPIRIT SWORD," she thought, summoning the power that would form her weapon of mental energy. Suddenly blazing gout of fire sprang up within her mind, ready to do battle with the invader.

"Who are you!" she screamed with her mind, "What do you want!"

Slowly a mist formed in her mind, a moving and boiling black fog. A form soon began to take shape within the billowing cloud, coalescing into recognizable features within her mind. A coarse face, red hair, penetrating, icy blue eyes. The features of Kane.

"YOU!" her mind cried. The blade of pure energy sprang forward, sizzling death, toward the face that formed in the mist. Kane batted it aside with a thought. The sword rebounded and began its attack in earnest, wheeling, spinning and cutting in a blur faster than a physical eye could see.

The mage parried blow after blow, then, focused the full power of his will onto the mind of the Dara. Phoenix struggled to escape but the iron will of the crimson haired wizard held her fast, his enormous mental powers holding her in thrall.

"Peace, child," came the soothing thoughts of the mage, "peace." Slowly the fighting spirit drained from her, the anger and frustration of being thus invaded. Sweet peace and relaxation swept over her mind, unlike any she had experienced before. 

Surrendering to his mental caresses, Phoenix fully opened her mind to him, her innermost thoughts laying bare before the will of the mage.

Easily could he rape her mind, poking into the dark recesses where she kept her uttermost secrets, forcing his will upon her, yet he did not. 

Instead he imparted a message into her mind, into her very memory, a message to be delivered to her fellow travelers when she awoke. Then, before he withdrew, he left her with one last thought "Now, our minds are forever bonded", his mind said, "Call my name and I will hear." Then he faded from her thoughts.

Phoenix awoke with a start, eyes flying wide. "An ambush!" she cried, "I must tell the others!" 

~*~

Across the vale the black horse pounded, turf flying wide in his wake, the occasional ringing of stone beneath the iron shod hooves. Mounted upon the dark steed, a huge fiery haired rider, naked save a pair of short breeks and a tattered black cloak flapping in the wind. A long sword was strapped to the saddle within easy reach of the rider, ready to be drawn in an instant.

Kane ground his teeth as he rode, not knowing the welcome he would receive. The band of questers did not know he had planned to desert them since acquiring the sword, and he had sent them warning of the impending ambush through Phoenix. It was still not enough; they would need his help if they were to defeat this demon prince. _I am growing soft_, he thought, _soft indeed_.

Westward sped the pair and westward, the bare feet of the rider kicking the flanks of the huge wild beast. On the morrow he would be reunited with the doomed quest, mayhap he could save them all from certain doom….mayhap.


	28. Ambush and Salvation

****

Chapter Twenty-eight

Ambush and Salvation

She leapt to her feet, the flute and case falling from her lap to the ground. Phoenix stared at both then knelt to pick them up even as Vanidor rushed to her side. 

"Dara! Art thou all right? I heard thee cry out." 

Standing, she looked at him, strange emotions warring within her deep violet eyes. "Ambush, Vanidor! We must wake the others!" 

He looked at her in confusion, "Phoenix, how..." 

She shook her head, interrupting him. "No time to explain. Hurry!" 

He nodded then and ran to wake the others. Phoenix put her flute back in it's case and followed, coming to Julina's side even as both Kaje and Faedra were getting to their feet. 

"What's going on?" Julina asked in a sleepy voice. 

All now awake, Phoenix said again, "Ambush. We must make ready. I know not how much time we have." 

Kaje looked towards his swords, even as Aravan said, "She is right. My stone does grow cold." 

"Aye," Kaje agreed, "The eyes of my Dragons glow." 

Faedra looked towards Kaje asking, "Fight or flee?" 

Kaje shrugged, "I don't know how far we would get. We may have to stand and fight." 

"But we almost lost last time! There were too many of them then. There'll probably be even more now!" Julina said even as she readied her weapons. 

Kaje replied, "Indeed. If it weren't for Kane coming to our aid we would have fell then. But I deem we have little choice. We must come up with a plan. Though I wish we did have Kane's sword by our side." 

"It will be." 

All turned to Phoenix, looking at her in confusion. 

She stared back, then lifted her gaze to the sky. "He is on his way even now," she said, even as she spotted a Raptor circling in the distance. "We must make ready," was all the answer she gave to their questioning gazes. Then, to herself she thought, _Thou does have much to answer for Kane. Much indeed._

~*~

Standing with swords drawn, Kaje stood beside Faedra; the two, as well as the others standing to their left and right, and forming a circle, gazed intently into the thick vegetation surrounding the small camp. As they stood, each watching, each waiting, all about the camp came the sounds of wood snapping and popping, vines whipping through air and the rumble of stone deep in the earth. And, as all in the group looked about the camp and to each other with a look of profound question upon their faces, it seemed as if the small clearing grew even smaller with each pop, snap and hiss. Looking up toward the tops of the trees ringing round the camp, each saw that the boughs of each appeared to whip in a great blow that they felt not.

"What is happening?" shouted Sargienka over the assailing din.

"I know not," shrieked Faedra, the Dara, as well as the others now stepping back as the trees and brush and vines pressed in on them. Each in the group looking about as they were pressed inward in an ever tightening circle; the warriors now feeling the great blow stirring the tree tops as it now blew about them. The swirling blast now sent hair to fly, pieces of grass and fallen leaf to swirl around each, and dust born upon it set to sting at their eyes and face.

"Prepare to flee!" Vanidor shouted over the howling blast.

Then, as if all had become suddenly deaf, all sound ceased. The once blasting wind blew no more, the sound of popping root and creaking wood stopped, and all about the tight circle of warriors, the area now some ten feet across, the air was filled with a heavy mist. And, in the tight circle, all in the group looked about in wonder. Some up towards the sky, others at the tight net of vines and brush filling the gaps between the trees. Then, from somewhere beyond the barrier surrounding them, came the howls of Vilka and the same whipping sound as the vines had made earlier. And, after some few moments, these sounds faded and where then no more.

Faedra, now stepping close to Kaje, asked, "Chier, what has caused this?" The Alor merely shacking his head in response.

Then, as all looked at and touched the thick wall now surrounding them, there came from the center of the circle a meek voice: "Welcome to my home."

All in the group quickly turning from their inspection of the barrier and facing toward the center of the ring. And, as they did, in the very heart of the ring the mist began to part and fade away to reveal before them a small man of slight build. 

Standing before them was a man perhaps a hand taller than the average Warrow. Yet no Warrow was he. From his head, hair the colour of freshly turned earth flowed down to his shoulders and covered his slightly pointed ears. His eyes, tilted slightly at the corners as are those of Elven and Warrow kind, seemed to emit the knowledge of unknown ages. His skin, mostly exposed save for a small area covered by a light brown loin cloth, held a deep umber hue much like that of well aged teak. And, though he stood still and turned not, the slight man appeared to face each of the warriors standing around him. 

Unable to contain his curiosity any longer, Vanidor asked, "Who art thou that stands before us?"

Looking at each around him, the small man spoke in a voice that seemed born upon the wind, "I am the one that was and will always be. I am the one that trod Mithgar before all others. I am the one that speaks with all things hidden to most. I am Daonnan; keeper, watcher, and healer of this wood. And I have been waiting for you."

"So it was thee that caused the trees and brush to surround us?" asked Kaje.

"Yes, it was I."

"But what of the Vilka? Where have they gone to?" asked Phoenix.

"I have sent them away. Though it is not in my nature to harm or kill any beast that roams upon the land, still I can cause them to flee in fear."

Reaching out his hands and holding them palm down, the small man closed his eyes as once again all about the clearing the air began to swirl round. With the swirling wind the mist that filled the circle was sent to plume up and over the trees. And, as this happened, a slight shimmering came over the small form standing before the warriors. As the shimmer subsided some around the circle now looked upon the man as if he was in a natural physical form and faced only one of the warriors; the others about the circle no longer seeing the small mans face but various aspects of his form as would normally be expected. And, wondering at this sudden change in perspective, all standing behind the small man stepped around him so that they may look upon his face once again.

Now, opening his eyes and looking toward the ground, the small man raised his hands slightly. As he did so, from the ground came a low rumble as a small patch of turf some inches before his feet, bulged upwards. As all standing in the circle looked toward the rising turf, suddenly, as if being rent apart in a jagged line, the lush grass parted and from beneath a stone obelisk began to slowly rise. Kneeling down, the small man lowered his hands to meet the stone as it stopped; some six inches of the square granite now visible above the ground.

Once again closing his eyes and then tilting his head downwards, the small man spoke, "Those that pursued and sought to attack you have fled. Only the mage rides toward this place."

"What mage rides toward us?" Julina asked as she looked around at the others.

"Kane...Kane rides toward us," Phoenix offered. "I have summoned him to us." 

The other Elves in the group looking at the Dara with question but where denied answer as Daonnan spoke: "I will speak with you again once your mage friend has joined you. Until that time, fear not the beasts of the dark one that now resides in my wood. For they will be turned away. Go now and await your friend." 

Raising a hand and pointing directly behind the group, Daonnan said, "I will come to you later. I will meet you in the clearing yon. Do not fear attack this night. For I and my family shall ward this place."

And, turning from the form of the small man and looking behind them, all in the group were taken by surprise at the sight before them. There, where the wood and brush barrier had once seemed solid and impenetrable, they saw that a way had been opened into a rather large glade. Off to the right and near the back of the glad was a small pond. Most of which was shrouded by tall heavy brush. And though the area around the glade seemed open, they knew that none could enter unless Daonnan wished it. 

Turning around to ask more questions of the small man, Kaje saw that he was now gone. The stone that had protruded from the ground was now gone as well. And, turning back to the opening in the barrier, he said, "Let us to yon clearing and await this strange being that claims to be proprietor of Drearwood. For he has left us for now." All in the group now turning to see that Daonnan was in fact gone from the wood and brush barrier. Looks of amazement, question and wonder playing across the faces of each as they turned and trod toward the clearing. And, as they entered the opening, there off to the left could be seen their steeds; the beasts grazing upon the lush grasses of the glad as if nothing untoward had happened. High above sunlight shone down into the glade, birds flew about the trees ringing round the area and all seemed at peace. 


	29. The Return of Kane

****

Chapter Twenty-nine

The Return of Kane

Kane crouched in the wood surveying the glade, silence. From his vantage point he could just glimpse the remains of the previous nights campfire, yet no occupants could be seen.

_Surely they heeded the warning I gave to Phoenix_. He thought to himself. The Mage frowned as he noted the many pawprints of Vilka surrounding the clearing, evidence of the ambush of which he had warned. Also, he noted the strange twisting of branches and limbs that surrounded the area, what could this mean?

Kane moved slowly forward, ebon blade before him, into the deserted glade. No foul paw prints intruded into the copse, no signs of battle or struggle greeted him, only silence. To one side of the clearing, a small path seemed to beacon, calling to him. The mage immediately knew that something was afoot, there was power in this glade, spells were in the air. 

Moving to the path, he noted that the very trees seemed to bend over him, surround him as if in protection. Kane was unmoved; he had seen such before. Ignoring the sentient foliage, the warrior mage peered down the path. 

Behold, the warparty that he was seeking was encamped there, a scant two hundred feet from the previous nights fire pit. All members were accounted for and well, ensconced around a small spring-fed pool. 

The warrow, Sargienka, was the first to spot the dumfounded mage. At first she gasped at the appearance of the rag-tag figure, then laughed at the expression of surprise that covered his face. The others, seeing him for the first time then, also laughed. As his countenance fell at the mirth that was leveled at him, Kane scowled, bringing gales of loud guffaws from the entire group.

Kane spun on his heel and tramped back down the path to retrieve his war-horse, the rising din of mirth bringing heat to his ears and redness to his face. 

~*~

Kane stared at the spring fed pool, scratching his grizzled beard. Finally he spoke. "Perhaps he was a tree shepherd," he said. "It is said that Daonnan came to Drearwood in times past but little of his nature is known."

"Well he seemed friendly enough to me." This analogy came from Sargienka as she plopped down next to the crimson haired warrior-mage. "And he showed us this place to rest!" The young damman poured herself a cup of tea from the pot that had just begun to boil. "Ahhhhh …a fine cup of the finest Bosky black." She eyed Kane thoughtfully. "Would you like a cup?" she asked.

"Nay little one", came the reply, "I have never acquired a taste for such." 

At the other side of the clearing, Phoenix had just finished rubbing down the horses. The Dara did not know what to say to Kane or how to act in his presence since the mental/spiritual episode of the previous evening. On the surface she burned with anger at his unsolicited invasion of her mind, yet deep within she craved the peace that this bond seemed to offer. His nearness seemed to bring a strange excitement. She shook her head at the conflicting emotions and picked up the currying brush to begin anew with the horses. 

Strange…since her mind-bonding with its master, the huge black war-horse suffered her touches and caresses. Perhaps she gained more from this bonding than was readily apparent. "Scruff…scruff" went the brush, smoothing the flanks of the great destrier as her mind dwelt on these implications.

Vanidor frowned. He had hoped to finally be rid of the unwanted mage. How he loathed the wizard with hair the color of blood. Somehow through Kane's devious manipulation, his beloved Kaelea had perished, along with the Pysk Foxworthy and Rust his trusty friend. Must he slay the wizard himself? The Lian ground his teeth as he planned and plotted.

Dara Faedra did not know what to make of Kane's return. He had been unusually silent of his quest into the Gwasp and this made her uneasy. Also, he seemed strangely attached to the new sword that he carried, keeping it ever close to his side. What tale was he keeping from them? She wondered what tale indeed.

Julina sat next to Kaje, polishing her bow with a moist piece of cloth. She had kept close to the Alor, depending on his skills to keep her alive during the battles. She was not yet ready to stand alone against the foe. _Soon_, she thought_, Soon I must stand alone and defend the name of my ancestors_. The young girl shivered at the thought and went back to the polishing of her bow.

Kaje sat listening to Kane and Sargienka's banter. The huge mage seemed to have become fond of the warrow in the last few weeks. "Mayhap there is some hope for the wizard after all," he muttered under his breath. He then rose to his feet and walked to where Phoenix had begun to rub down the horses for the third time. _What was her secret_? he thought, noting the way her eyes roamed over the camp, yet avoiding Kane. _Had Kane done something to her unbeknownst to the rest of them?_

"Scruff…Scruff", went the brush as Phoenix continued her chore.

~*~

"Kane, I'm glad your back. I know not what has happened to you and am curious. You arrive from a biding from Phoenix, or so she said. You have obviously been in a tremendus struggle of some kind and bear a strange sword that shines in my eyes like none I've ever seen. Pray tell me what has happened since we saw you last," said Sargienka.

She was glad the big man was back. The one she stood over and protected that first fateful day when she joined this group, the one she somehow felt a strange bond with, the one everyone else seemed to be unsure of. She didn't understand why she felt like they had grown up together. Of course that was ridiculous...who could imagine a three foot three female Warrow and a seven foot mage brother and sister? That was just to funny to picture. Still, she did sense a family bond. Perhaps in another life they had shared a kinship. All the buccans laughing at her when she read of the Dwarves' belief and dared to believe. "It isn't the Warrow way Sarge, so quit being stupid...." laughing ! 

It still irked her today to remember that day so long ago. Maybe there was something wrong with her, maybe she was better off away from home. After all, since she had joined this group, not a single one had laughed at her once. And even better, her say actually had someone listening to it. She'd never felt so at peace and scared stiff at the same time in her life. But then there was Kane...

Shaking her head clear of the cobwebs of youth she returned her attention to the big guy sitting in front of her.

Suddenly she smacked herself in the head! 

"What is amiss, Sargienka?" asked Kane. 

"I just realized you're banged up a bit," she said while up and running to her bags. "Don't move, Kane, back in a moment!" Quickly she grabbed her things and a water skin and returned with salve in hand. she quickly set to work cleaning and treating his hurts. True there were none too serious, and she had witnessed his healing abilities... Oh well, It made her feel needed.

Kane just laughed under his breath at her mutterings as she salved his hurts. She thought it was the first time she had ever seen him even grin. Healing came in many forms after all.

~*~

_Damn you, Kane_, she thought for the thousandeth time as she yet again began brushing down Spirit. Ever since the mage had come back, Phoenix had wanted to confront him. She had so many questions and she wanted answers. 

Briefly she stopped combing Spirit and turned to look at Nightwind. The big horse had actually let her care for it, abiding her touch. It was as if he sensed the bond Kane had made with her. 'The horse probably knows more of it than I!' she though in frustration as she again started combing the roan before her. 

Spirit turned his head and looked at her in irritation, sensing something was wrong with his rider. He whinnied softly to her, trying to somehow get her attention, but Phoenix didn't notice. The same questions kept racing through her head, questions about why Kane had invaded her mind, why he had formed this bond with her. She knew part of it was to warn of the ambush, but why did he even care? And that sword of his, he must have found it in the tomb, but what was it's true purpose? She could sense something was wrong with the black sword, it seemed to emit a dark energy. What exactly did Kane plan on doing with such a weapon? And then there were the strange emotions building up within her. There was anger and frustration, but there was also something else. Something she didn't want to admit. Where she had failed to achieve true peace, failed to achieve the pure link of mind, body and soul, Kane had succeeded for her. What she had spent centuries on had taken but a mere moment, a simple thought, from the mage. And as much as it hurt to admit it, she wanted to have that feeling come upon her again! She needed to know how, for if she could do such than she could unlock the true power of her 'ki'. Then she would be ready to face her nightmares, to face what waited for her after this mission. 

Dropping the comb to the ground she clenched her fists in anger. _Damn him!_ she thought again, _How dare he_! Phoenix tried to calm down, tried to relax. However much she wanted to confront Kane, to make him answer her questions, it would have to wait. As angry as she was she knew she would lash out at him, and for the sake of the others, and their host, Daonnan, she wouldn't do such. Besides it would be foolish to challenge the mage now. She knew she couldn't win, she couldn't even keep him out of her own mind. She would have to calm down first, she would have to seek meditation. But was that safe? She wondered if she could even meditate in peace now because of Kane. She doubted it, but mayhap it would calm her down some to try. 

Phoenix turned and looked to where the mage sat by the fire, by Sargienka's side. The damman was tending to his wounds, while Kane actually seemed to be smiling. Surprised to see such, her eyes widened slightly, "Just who is he?" she thought. 

From across the camp Kane sensed her gaze upon him and for the first time their eyes met. Cold blue eyes stared deeply into those of violet, seeming to see into her very soul. Phoenix wanted to look away but somehow couldn't, even as his words echoed through her mind, "We are forever bonded...." 

She clenched her fists even tighter, nails digging into her palms and drawing blood. Rage began to rise in her, and it took all of her training to try and suppress it. She trembled slightly with the effort, trying to pull her gaze away from the mage's own. Just then she felt a hand on her shoulder, startled at the sudden contact. 

"Dara!" Kaje said, a worried look upon his face. "Phoenix, art thou all right?" 

Phoenix turned to Kaje a strange look upon her face. Shaking her head to clear it of strange thoughts and stranger emotions, she looked down at her hands, blood welling in her palms, and answered softly, "I'm fine." 

Looking up to the red maned mage and then back to Phoenix, Kaje surmised that something was amiss between the two. Yet as to what, he knew not. "What troubles thee? Kaje asked.

"Tis nothing my friend," said Phoenix even as she folded her arms in an attempt to conceal her bleeding palms.

Noticing that the Dara was somewhat un-easy, Kaje decided the best thing to do was to let matters be for now. "Well, if there is aught I can do for thee, do not hesitate to ask."

"I shall remember that," she said a little hastily, feet shuffling a bit on the ground, a forced smile coming to her face.

Knowing she wished to be left alone, yet knowing that she needed the solace of a confidant, Kaje stepped to the Dara ere turning and placed both hands on her shoulders. "Phoenix," he said as he gazed into her eyes of deep violet. "If there is aught thou needs...anything at all, please let me know. I am here to help thee. Please believe that." Then, looking over the Dara's right shoulder and beyond to the red haired mage now sitting near the fire and speaking with Sargienka, he said, "If thy bother is with Kane, go and speak with him. He can be reasoned with when needs be. Trust me in this." The Dara merely nodding her head to the Alor's words as she yet faced the ground. "Even since the attack the other night, and our subsequent meeting with Daonnan, I have wondered as to thy statement that Kane would soon be joining us to aid in the attack." At these words the Dara turned away from the Alor and stared off into the surrounding woods, Kaje sighing heavily as she did so, for he now knew that there was more at work here than mere happenstance. 

"I will not prod thee into talking more on this matter my friend. Yet, I would have thee know, when thou art ready, I shall be ever willing to listen to thy plight and aid where I can."

After saying this, Kaje turned from the Dara and walked back to where Faedra sat near a small blaze just to the far side of the pool; this spot having been chosen by the two because it afforded the most privacy from the others as it was mostly concealed from the rest of the glade by the large brush that grew around the edges of the pool. 

"How is thy friend faring, _chier_?" Faedra asked as he sat on the ground beside her.

"She is yet bothered by something. What that might be, she would not say; though I deem Kane is involved in some way. Yet, I have given her my word that I shall be ready to talk if ever she wishes to unburden herself of those matters."

"Ah, _chier_...that is one of the reasons I love thee so. Thou art always concerned with the well being of others. Always trying to smooth things over between adversaries."

"Well, as any wise warrior will tell you, talk is better than fight any day. And anyone that chooses fight over talk is a fool. Yet with matters of personal relationships between others, the slopes become a bit more slippery and one must be ever cautious to not step to far beyond the middle ground. Else one risks losing not only one friend, but perhaps two."

Leaning over and kissing the Dara lightly on the lips, he sat back and gazed at her beauty. "Ah, _chier_, everyday I must remind myself that I am the luckiest person upon the face of Mithgar. For there art none other more splendid and pleasing to the eye as are thee." Again he leaned over and kissed the Dara even as she began to protest his remarks. 

"Why must thee always jump from one topic to something totally different?" Faedra said as she pushed the Alor away from her. "One minute you are talking of matters of deep concern and profound meaning. The next thou art spurting gibberish about mine beauty, though I must say thought art lucky to have me for I believe none other could bare thee."

Kaje, sat back on his feet and merely looked at the Dara, his mouth agape, as she gave him a light tongue lashing. "Is it so bad that I wish to profess mine love for thee?"

"Nay love, tis not. But why must thee drag mine thoughts into matters of concern and then jump from that subject to one of love?"

"Perhaps I wish only to spend mine time with thee in talk of matters more pleasing to the mind and heart. I wish not to trouble thee with matters that concern others. Yet I know that thou would know all that is happening. And I will tell all I know if it pleases thee. And if thou wilt but kiss me one more time," he said as he looked toward her, a wry smile pulling a the corners of his lips, the Dara returning a like smile ere the two embraced each other.


	30. Councils of Good and Evil

****

Chapter Thirty

Councils of Good and Evil

Some leagues away from the warded glade, in a hidden vale known only to those that resided in the dark wood, there came the sound of leaves rustling, a gentle wind blowing, and the murmurings of numerous strange voices. And, into this quiet vale stepped the warder of all therein. Stepping to the soft, loamy sod that surrounded the mightiest tree in the wood, that being a great alder a few centuries of age, Daonnan stood surveying all around him after having emerged from the massive bowl of the alder and into the filtered light of the vale.

"Thank you, my friends, for heeding my call and being present." The slight form of Daonnan spoke to the ones gathered around him in a voice that was understood by all though it sounded as would the wind blowing through boughs and over fens. "I have news that some of you may already be aware of. Away to the east there is now a group of Elves, and others, that have come to aid us in the removal of the cancer that even now resides in our beloved home."

Then, as if a great wind lashed through the vale, the murmurings of several voices rose up: "Come to help us? They have come to help us?...us...come to help..." The resounding voices, sounding like thousands at one and the same time, asked aloud. All about the vale tendrils of vines twisted and whipped in the air, trees swung their mighty boughs, delicate flowers spread their petals wider. And all about the basin of the vale, small shadows skittered hither and yon. Deep in the ground, and upon the surface, stones vibrated and rumbled.

All the while Daonnan spoke, selected words could be heard repeated here and there. And, had any outsider stepped into the vale at that moment, provided they could find it in the first place, all that would come their ears would be that of wind rushing through the trees, leaves falling to the ground, and the creek and pop of aged trees as they swayed in the wind And all would appear as normal.

"I have warded the group that promises help, and shall return to them this eve. If we they are to rid our home of the foulness that has invaded it, they will need out help. In this endeavor all will be needed." Hushed murmurs spread throughout the vale as Daonnan spoke these words. For, until this point in time, all the "hidden" ones within the wood had assisted none from the outside world save a few that where deemed friends.

"I know that this goes against all that you know, for they are not friends of the wood. Yet, I say again, they have come to fight the evil one and thus free our home. I believe them to be true to this matter and so I will offer our help in this task." Again, murmurs arose throughout the vale, yet none directly opposed the plan their keeper laid before them.

"I shall go from this place and meet with our new friends once I have settled the matter of our aid. So, if there are any that would protest this idea, I would ask that he now speak aloud."

At Daonnan's feet a small shadow dissolved revealing a Pysk upon a fox. "Are the big folk to truly be trusted?"

"Aye Japue, they are. For I have looked into the hearts of each and have seen the goodness therein."

Flitting about the air, a young pixie, now hovering in front of Daonnan asked, "How is it that such a group of large folk, having such goodness of hearts, have some to be in the wood. And at the time we need their help?"

"It is as Adon has planed. Yet among these friends there is one that carries a weapon of great power. A weapon which was wrought from much pain and suffering." At this a stir came upon the beings gathered in the vale, murmurs rising, leaves rustling, boughs swaying. Gazing up and about at the beings gathered round him, Daonnan raised his hands in the air seeking to quiet the uproar. After a few moments, all gathered complied and fell silent once more. Now, gazing at all therein at one and the same time, Daonnan continued, "I do not believe the wielder of the dark weapon fully understands the extent to which this weapons powers reach. And, so, I do not fear that its full potential shall be tapped by its current bearer."

"What if it is tapped...tapped...what if?...if?" Thousands of whispering voices sounded in the vale, flits of glimmering light dancing through the air, tendrils of vines swishing round and about, half seen shadows darting in and out of the underbrush. 

"The weapon is old my friends," Daonnan shouted above the din. "The knowledge to unleash the weapon's true power died millennia ago. None living today knows the full true-name of the weapon. And as long as I thrive upon the land, none shall. For to invoke the full potential of the weapon would portend dire for all within sight of it; hidden folk as well as common."

Again a great din arose as the beings gathered in the vale voiced their concerns. Again, it was some time before Daonnan brought the group to peace. Raising his voice above the few murmurs yet floating upon the air, he spoke on, "Again I say, this weapon is not to be feared! For its wielder knows not its full true-name and the weapon therefore posses no dire threat to us or others in the wood. Yet heed! A weapon of such power could be a powerful ally in the coming battle with the evil one."

"Evil one...one...powerful ally...powerful....coming battle...coming..." Again vines whipped about, stones rumbled, mounds undulated, boughs swayed, wind blasted.

"Yes my friends...there shall be battle. Yet there is no other way to remove the blackness that festers in our beloved home. And, in this battle, I will need the help of all gathered here and of those not present. So, while I go to talk with our friends, spread the word throughout the forest. Tell your kindred, your friends, and all others that dwell herein."

Daonnan now stood silent as once again murmurs rose in the vale; trees talking with trees, stones talking with stones, Pyska talking with Pyska, Pixies talking with Pixies. All sounding as would a great symphony of wind and earth combined in one great voice.

Waiting patiently until the voices died down, Daonnan spoke, "I go now to lay plans with our friends and talk with them on how best to approach this task we are all faced with. I shall return to this place in one cycle of the sun and I would see all of you returned as well as any others that would come. Go now and spread the word. Tell all that soon our home will be free of the evil one that now darkens all life herein."

And, with that, all about the vale lush foliage rustled and boughs swayed, wind blew and shadows raced. Hope of freedom from the evil one gave new life to all as they set about their task. And, into the bowl of an ancient alder stepped the slight form of Daonnan.

~*~

Sitting upon an earthen mound, Braxus surveyed the multitude of his horde as they swarmed about the ravine below him. As of this morning all of his scouts had returned to him and were about to commence with their reports of the outlaying lands. As the first of the chief scouts approached him, the evil lord of the dark horde acknowledged the floating wraith hovering before him. "What have you seen on your journeys," bellowed Braxus.

"As far as I could fly, all folk about the land appear to be preparing for battle. To the west of this place is a great castle named Challerain. In this place humans gather. Further on to the west is a settlement called the Bosky. In this place gather the small folk; some of which I have used to quench my thirst for life force." Azrael, though keeping a calm demeanor about himself, still brooded over the tongue lashing Braxus had given him for killing the few small folk he had come into contact with instead of bringing a survivor back for him. 'Braxus shall pay for that embarrassment' Azrael thought to himself. "Further north there is nothing but waste land; snow, ice and barren landscape."

"So there are none dwelling to the north?" Braxus quarried.

"None my lord," Azrael said with a slight twinge of content in his voice. "But, let us not forget the group of Elves we espied approaching from the east."

"What of them? Did my Vilka not destroy all of them? Was it not a decisive battle in my favor?" raged Braxus. 

Now, swooping down from its perch high above the ravine, one of the raptors alighted on the ground beside Braxus; the large winged beast clawing and scraping at the ground with its wickedly sharp talons as it shrieked out for acknowledgment from its master.

Looking down towards the winged creature, Braxus stared deeply into its beady, wide-set eyes as to ascertain its intent. As the large bird-like beast scratched and clawed the ground, it too stared intently back at its master. Then, with a raging cry, Braxus slammed a mighty fist down upon the creatures head; its neck and back snapping with a sound like large limbs breaking under the strain of ice and snow.

"Why have none of you told me this until now?" the great form howled; all within the ravine scrabbling to and fro at the sound of their masters ire. "Why did none of you tell me that there were yet survivors from our last battle?"

Turning toward the wraith floating before him, Braxus spat out, "Did you too have knowledge of this?"

"Yes my lord, I did. Yet they were but a handful. And of no concern to our endeavors," Azrael said even as he tried to block out that one niche of his thoughts that held the knowledge of the warrior mage that traveled with the small group of Elves. For deep within himself he knew that the warrior now possessed an item that could set him free of his astral world of existence and thus allow him to roam the lands of the planes as he once did.

"Insolence! Am I to be surrounded by slight minded fools that perceive to hold a greater knowledge of battle than I! Do you pathetic beings think that I have reached this point in my existence by merely bumbling around through battle after battle? And, if I had, do you think that I would now rule over so many planes?" Braxus fumed aloud as he slammed his fist into the ground upon which he sat; the impact sending tremors through the sodden earth. 

All the while Braxus raged so, high above the ravine and the mound Braxus sat upon, a pair of eyes watched; a pair of eyes belonging to Daonnan, the keeper of the wood peering out of a branch extending from the top of a massive ash tree near the lip of the ravine. And the keeper observed all, and took carful note of the number of beast in Braxus' horde. Soon he would meet with the small group of warriors in the warded glade and convey all he had seen. Too, he would tell them of his plan for attack upon the dark horde and its evil leader.


	31. The Path to Peace

****

Chapter Thirty-one

The Path to Peace

Phoenix watched as Kaje walked away, and whispered softly, "Thank thee, my friend." She wondered if it would truly help to speak with the Alor. 

She sighed and looked to her yet bleeding palms. Turning to where her packs lay she pulled from one a piece of cloth which she tore into strips and wrapped around each hand. 

Finished, she decided she couldn't tell Kaje what had happened between her and the mage. "How could I explain to thee what I don't truly understand myself?" she thought. "But thou art right Kaje. I do need to speak with Kane. Though not on this plane." 

Phoenix then turned and walked past where the horses yet grazed, Spirit coming to stand in her path. She put her hand upon his head, scratching behind his ears, "Thou art worried too, eh?" she spoke softly to the horse, even as he laid his head upon her shoulders in an attempt to offer comfort. She smiled half heartedly, "Ah, Spirit. My thanks for such concern. But now I need be alone." 

Spirit backed away reluctantly, unsure of what she planned but unwilling to disobey. 

Phoenix continued past and walked to where stood a huge tree. She came around to the far side of it and sat crosslegged upon the ground. Closing her eyes she began to focus her mind, clearing it of questions and concerns. It was long ere she was able to do such though, emotions too unexplainable to be put aside easily. She concentrated on finding the place in her mind which held quiet, held the essence of her spiritual self. Finally she was able to break through her whirling thoughts, was able to find her 'ki'. 

Focusing upon the waves of 'ki' she let them wash over her, through her. Silver and blue energy comforting and setting her mind at ease. Before she could lose herself in such, she remembered why she had come here. "Kane." she called within her mind, not knowing if the mage would even hear her call, or if he would answer it. Again she spoke his name, and waited. Long moments passed, time flowing away, and still he did not answer. 

Just as she was about to give up though she sensed something, a new presence within her mind. A dark mist began to form before her, and she looked on even as it started to take the shape of the big mage. He stood before her, cold blue eyes looking through her, past her, into her very being. 

Phoenix returned his gaze, searching in his eyes for answers, but finding none. 

Kane stood there in silence, waiting for her to speak. 

Finally, she said, "I did not know if this would work. I wasn't sure if thou would hear my call, or answer." 

Kane looked at her impassively, "Did I not say that we were bonded?" 

Narrowing her eyes, Phoenix replied, "Aye. Thou did say such. But why? Why wouldst thou care to do such a thing? Why wouldst thou care to bond with me, or to even warn of impending danger as thou did?" 

The mage just looked at her, searching her eyes, or maybe it was her soul, but didn't answer. 

"Dost thou have no answer Kane? Art thou as confused at thine behavior as am I?" Phoenix said, an angry tone in her voice, "If thou can not answer that, than tell me at least this. Who art thou? Be thee some kind of foul black mage?" 

"A black mage I am not." he said, and no more. 

Phoenix waited for him to continue, to say something else. Exasperated and even more confused she finally said, "Please, Kane I would know what thine motives are. I do not understand why thou would help us in the first place, let alone why thou would choose to form an everlasting bond with me. Thou did leave a feeling of peace with me last time, mayhap just to calm me, but it has been something I have sought after for too long." Overcome by emotions, Phoenix fell silent, waiting for the mage's response. 

Kane floated next to Phoenix, if it could be called next to, for there was no actual place or matter in the aether, only a state of mind. Strangely enough the outline of the dark sword seemed to float next to him.

"I am not one of many words", The mage finally said, "Yet I shall answer some of thy questions. Your mind Phoenix, is the only other mind within the group that is conditioned for astral travel. Though you are untrained in actual travelling, you are experienced in attaining the meditative state necessary for the transition." 

Slipping back into the prose of the high speech, he continued. " If thou art willing, I shall train thee in the arts of travelling. As I told thee earlier, thou hath already attained the basic skills necessary to master the art, but the turmoil within thy soul keeps thee from attaining true freedom of thy mind."

Phoenix was surprised at this last statement but offered only silence in return.

After a moment Kane continued, changing to another subject. "My race is an ancient one, long before the Sylva existed my race ruled the aether. Though we had even reached the stars, we finally turned inward to our minds as the final frontier, our final evolution. Yet we are not an undying race as you, though our lives can span a century or two, we longed for immortality to complete our mental transition. Words do not suffice to explain the varied history of me or my kind, nor the path I have chosen. Open thy mind to me and I shall show thee the fullness of myself."

An uneasiness fell across the Dara at the suggestion of opening her mind unto him. She thought back to the time a few days ago when he first showed himself to her in the mental plane. 

"I know that thou could enter my mind without my permission", she said. "And I thank thee for thy consideration in asking." He had not hurt her then and there was no reason that he should take advantage of her now, though the very thought of mental union with the mage made her skin crawl. 

After taking a deep breath and summoning up her courage, she braced herself and said, "Show me what thou wilt Kane."

"So be it" replied Kane. The astral form of the mage floated toward her, his outstretched arms reaching out to enfold her mithral form, pulling her in, even into himself. Peace flooded once again over her tormented soul, sweet release from the pain that she held bottled up within. 

His face grew in her vision until it seemed to overwhelm her very sense of self. She became both Phoenix and Kane. Their minds became as one. 

Images flashed through the mind of Dara Phoenix, the history of Kane's race. So quickly did the pictures spin past that only the rudiments of the history could be gleaned from them. 

Early primitive people. Glacial ages came and went. War. Evolution. War. Tools becoming prevalent. War. Hunting giving way to cultivating. Writing. War. Cities being built. The rise of civilization. The machine age. War. Reaching for the stars. The colonization of far worlds. The return from those same worlds. War. Dawn of the Aetherial age. The mind reigns supreme.

When Kane himself came into the picture, the images slowed and became more understandable. A young red haired Kane sat with his mother. Kane listened as a dominant father trained him in the rites of manhood. His fathers discovery of plane travel. The training of young Kane's mind. The invasion of the homeworld by demons from another realm. The annialiation of Kane's race . Kane's father teaching him the spell of traveling. Kane vowing revenge for the genocide. Kane searching the planes for knowledge and lore to assist him in his revenge. Kane's discovery of the potion of eternal life. Kane traveling to Vadaria. The acceptance of the mages. Kane delves into the darker mysteries. The rejection of the mages. Ceddi 'ach-na van Dantor's apprehenticeship. Limbo for a thousand years. The continuation of Kane's quest for knowledge. Kingdoms rise and fall. Ages pass. Kane's solitude increases. The discovery of Dantor. Kane comes to Mithgar. Kanes revenge on Dantor with the help of Sylvans. Kane travels Mithgar. Kane converses with Drakes, Krakens, Utruni and various other denizens of the realm. Kane visits the mages in Xian. Kane discovers the tome of Xaggoth-ata-zakkotg and learns of the black sword. Kane discovers toe ancient tomb in far Kistan. Kane feels the arrival of Braxus. Kane realizes that Braxus is of the demonkind that exterminated his race. Kane travels to Arden seeking his allies of old. Kane meets Phoenix…THE PRESENT…

As if with a sudden burst of brilliant light, the images came to an end. Once again Kane floated before her in the aether.

After the flashes of the Kane's history came to a conclusion, the Dara looked upon the Mage with a new understanding, and also with a feeling of sorrow.

"So lonely you must be Kane", she said, "To be the last of your kind." 

"I do not seek sympathy or pity." Kane replied. "I told thee what thou did ask to know." 

Gazing at the mage hovering before her Phoenix said, "I do not pity thee, Kane. Though I do understand a little of what thou dost feel." Softly she added, "I understand what it is to be alone." Looking away from Kane, she sought that part of her mind, of her soul, that held the anguish and pain she had kept hidden for centuries. It was not hard to find. 

The mage noticed the change in Phoenix's spirit, she had darkened somewhat, the 'ki' waves becoming agitated and roiling about her as if in a storm. "Thou dost keep thy sorrow bottled up, letting it build so that thou will never be able to find true peace. How dost thou expect to unlock thy potential if thee can not let go of thy pain?" Kane said harshly. 

Phoenix pulled her attention back to the mage, calming slightly at his tone. "I know," she agreed. 

Kane hovered closer to her, looking deep within her self, "If thou would learn what I can teach thee, than let go of thy torment. Unleash it so that the pain washes over thee. It is the first step to healing. To peace. I believe that thou hast always known the way to achieve such." 

Phoenix returned his gaze, searching within him for answers as to why he would offer to help, why he would wish to train her in matters of the spiritual realm, the aether. Finding none, she instead gathered her life energy about her, seeking what slight comfort it could offer, then said, "Thou art right. I have always known the way. Deep inside the path to peace was always open. But I have been too scared, too reluctant, to trod upon that path." 

"What is there to fear, Phoenix?" he asked. "Other than the peace that thou dost seek?" 

Opening her mind to the mage, though she knew he could see without her doing such, Phoenix replied, "Myself."

"I was a coward then." Phoenix said as she let the images of her past flow through her mind. 

Kane looked on in silence, experiencing her emotions and pain. Memories of Phoenix and her twin, Rayne, travelling through Mithgar. Their desire to visit Darda Vrka, to visit the Draega, to meet Dalavar. A small village in Aralan where they had stopped for supplies along the way. A village that had been partially burned....

~*~

__

Rayne dismounted her horse, sword in hand she rushed to the side of the first villager she saw. "What happened?" she asked. 

The man's eyes flew wide at the sight of her and he cowered back in fear. 

"Sister." Phoenix said as she led both their horses into the village. "I deem thou should sheathe thy blade." Dismounting, she came to her sister's side and held a hand out to the man who had now fallen to his knees in the dirt and was mumbling something about seeing double under his breath. Phoenix smiled gently at him, "We mean thee no harm, sir. Please, would thou tell us what happened? Mayhap we can help." Kneeling down beside him, Phoenix placed her hands gently upon his shoulders. 

The villager looked at her, then at Rayne, and yet back again, a confused look in his eyes. 

Noticing this, Rayne sheathed her sword and said simply, "We are twins. I am Rayne, this is Phoenix." 

The man looked at Rayne, then towards her twin, haltingly he muttered, "I-I'm Barret. This village was a-attacked yesterday b-by foul folk." 

"What!" exclaimed Rayne in anger. "Damn them!" 

Barret flinched back at the tone of her voice, and tears sprang to his eyes. 

Flashing her sister a look of ire, Phoenix turned to Barret, "Tell us what happened." she said gently.

~*~

"They came from the mire at dawn yesterday. All in the village were asleep, except a few warders. The spaunen killed them, but not before an alarm was raised. Still, we had no chance. They burned the village, killing any who fought or ran. It made no difference. Leading them was a-a...." Here Barret stopped, choking on tears, and took a sip of the tea Phoenix had made for the few survivors. 

The twins waited for him to continue, but it was his wife instead who took up the tale. Holding Barret's hand, tears flowing down her face, she said, "A black mage led them. He was cloaked and I couldn't see his face. But his laughter...Adon it was horrible!" She covered her ears in rememberance and huddled against her husband, shaking and moaning in anguish. 

Barret put his arms about her and looked into Phoenix's eyes, "He took our son!!" 

Taking her head from Barret's shoulder, Terra looked at the twins and begged, "Please! You must save Aldric!!"

~*~

__

At the edge of the Khalian Mire, the twins reined in their horses. "Rayne." Phoenix said, worry in her voice. 

Her sister looked at her and shook her head. "Phoenix, we must do this. For the sake of that poor child." 

"But what can the two of us possibly do against a black mage?" Phoenix protested. "And who knows how many of the spaunen are therein? Why would the foul mage take one child anyway? It makes no sense! It has to be some sort of trap!" 

"Who knows the mind of black mages? Whatever the reason, we have no choice." Rayne replied. 

"We should ride for help. Mayhap to the Wolfwood..." Phoenix stopped speaking, her eyes pleading with Rayne not to do this. 

Sighing, Rayne said, "We have been through this. There is no time for such. Would that there were! We promised Barret and Terra we would do what we could. I will not break that promise by riding the other way!" More softly she continued, "I know thou dost not like battle, or wielding weapons against others. But these are foul folk! They will not be kind to him. They will not ask for ransom and they will not wait for us to go and get help! I would understand if thou dost not wish to continue, Phoenix. But with or without thee, I must do something! For Aldric's sake." With that Rayne spurred her horse forward, riding into the mire. 

Phoenix hesitated, watching as Rayne disappeard into the foul swamp.

~*~

__

"Phoenix! Flee!! Take Aldric and go!" Rayne shouted amidst the sound of steel upon steel. A furious battle raging all around. 

"Nay! I will not leave thee!" Phoenix shouted back even as she managed to behead the Ghul before her. The boy was clinging to her side, crying hysterically. Phoenix tried to comfort him, but a Hlok came rushing towards her to take the place of the fallen ghul. 

"Go!" Rayne shouted again as she ran forward to meet the oncoming Hlok. As steel met steel, she gritted out, "Phoenix, please. Take Aldric to safety! I will join thee as soon as I can! For now I will protect thy back. Now, go!" 

Hesitating yet again, Phoenix looked all about. They had been able to slay most of the foul folk, but more were on their way. Of a sudden, from out of nowhere, harsh laughter rang about the swamp. 

"Yesss, Phoenix" a voice hissed, "Take the boy and run. We shall see how far you get!" Evil laughter cackled forth from the shadows. 

"Damn! Stop hesitating and go!" Rayne shoved Phoenix hard, finally getting her to move. Phoenix was terrified, but even so, she managed to pick the child up and run. Rayne yet fighting for their lives.

The laughter seemed to follow her as she ran, but it wasn't the only thing chasing her. The mages voice too followed, tormenting her. "Run, little coward! Flee from this place!" 

Phoenix ran on, trying to ignore the mage as she cradled the small child in her arms. "Phoenix!" the voice called , "Your sister isn't faring so well! Can't you feel her pain yet?" 

Suddenly a sharp stab of pain twisted in her gut and she fell to the ground, clenching her stomach. 

"Rayne" she moaned, knowing she was now feeling everything her sister was. Managing to keep her hold of Aldric, she got back to her feet, and continued on through the pain and tears that clouded her senses. Through sword wounds and cudgel blows she ran on. She felt each blow as Rayne received them, sharing her pain. Onward and onward she ran, somehow finding the strength to do so. 

Laughter continued to echo around her, it's pitch rising until she could hardly stand it. Suddenly it stopped, the evil voice calling out in triumph. "It's over little coward!" 

And with that Phoenix screamed, for it felt as if a barbed spear had pierced her heart, and she pitched forward violently, losing hold of the child as she fell, striking her head hard upon the ground.

~*~

__

From blackness she struggled to wake, moaning in pain and sorrow. "Rayne." she whimpered. "Oh, Rayne." 

Lifting her bleeding head from the ground, she looked up as she heard the voice of the child screaming in fear. Struggling to get to her feet, but failing miserably, Phoenix looked on in horror as the screams were silenced by the cruel spear of the Ghul standing over Aldric. 

Helpless, Phoenix screamed in fury, "NOOOO!!" even as she lost consciouness for the second time.

~*~

"And so I failed. Not only my sister but that poor baby as well." Coming out of the fog of memories, she gazed long into Kane's eyes, wondering what he thought. "I could not save Rayne, I couldn't even save Aldric like she bade me! Instead of running, I should've stayed behind, I should've been the one to die that day!" 

Kane shook his head, "Nay, Phoenix. Do not dishonor thy sister's sacrifice with such words," he said in a surprisingly gentle tone. 

Stunned, Phoenix turned her gaze away. "I do not know why the Ghul did not slay me as well. When I came to it, was gone, as was the mage. I somehow managed to walk back to where Rayne had died, but her body was gone. I couldn't even say goodbye! And there was no Death Rede, it was sent to my ythir instead. Rayne wished for me to escape that foul place, and knew her Rede would prevent me from doing such." 

Looking back at Kane, she continued, "I wrapped Aldric's body in my cloak and stumbled the rest of the way out from the mire. I built a pyre for him, it was all I could do. I was yet dazed from the wound to my head, and filled with a pain that ran deeper than any sword ever could. It was long ere I made my way to the village. When I finally got there it was completly destroyed. My heart filled with despair I felt I couldn't go on, and collapsed. It was Dalavar himself who found me, but of the journey to Arden I remember little." And softly she said, "I never even saw the foul mage's face. Ever since, I have felt as though a part of my soul is missing. A part I will never have again." 

Her 'ki' gently washing over her, Kane replied, "Mayhap not. But thou can not keep blaming thyself. Thou were no coward that day! Do not fear that thou are." With that, Kane began to fade from her mind, leaving her with a final message, "This is the first step, Phoenix. Do not fear to take another." 

And with that he was gone. 

Phoenix opened her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree, wiping tears from her face with her bandaged hands. "Indeed, Kane," she said aloud as her heart filled with sudden emotion, "I will not fear to take the next step."


	32. To the Battle

****

Chapter Thirty-two

To the Battle

Sitting around a small fire in the warded glade, Kaje, Faedra, Vanidor, Sargienka, Julina, Phoenix and Kane ate a small meal of crue and drank water from the spring feed pool. As they sat doing so and speaking among themselves, there came a sudden blowing of the wind. Then, as a vortex of mist gathered in the middle of the glade, Daonnan stepped into view.

"The time has come for battle," the slight one said.

"Now? Are we to head out now?" Julina asked.

"Yes...the time has come."

All in the group looked first to one another, then back to Daonnan. As they began to rise from the ground, the small fire they had been sitting near suddenly went out; earth and sod covering the once chard circle, fire rocks once ringed round the small blaze receding into the ground.

"Time is short so we must act fast," Daonnan said. "Leave this place and travel west with all haste to the edge of the wood. Once there, travel south until you reach Drear Ford. Once at this place, travel east and into the wood. Two leagues into the wood you will encounter Braxus and his force; most of which camp in a deep ravine. It is in this ravine that all shall be decided."

"But what of the flying beast? Or the roaming ones? Won't they spy us out as we move through the wood?" asked Sargienka, her thoughts still awhirl from the quick and terse directions given them by the keeper.

"Fear not the eyes of the foe, for you shall be warded by tree and vine," Daonnan said as he walked toward the group; many of which still wondering at the sudden need for haste.

"Again, the time has come for battle. For only Braxus knows when he will move his force to a different camp. And trapping them in the ravine is our best chance of victory."

"So we are to engage the foe in this ravine thou hast spoken of," Kaje asked.

"Engage them there...no. Trap them therein...yes. All else will be seen to by the ones of the wood and land. As to Braxus himself, there is one among you that has in his possession a weapon that will send his soul into the nether world and remove him from our land."

At these words, all in the group looked once again from one to the other, all that is except for Kane. For he knew the sword in his care held great power, yet the others had no knowledge of this.

"I go now to make ready our plans of attack and convey to the ones of the wood your intended rout of travel. Too, I will tell them to ward your path through the wood so that none may see you as you travel therein."

And, before any of the group could say aught else, the slight form of Daonnan vanished from sight as the great vortex of mist swirled out of the glade. 

"Well, I guess that's that," Sargienka said as she turned and walked to her pack to make ready for travel. 

"I suppose thou art right little one," Vanidor said as he turned and did likewise.

"Let us prepare then," said Kaje as he looked from Faedra to Kane; the large mage's face holding a look of deep thought as he stood with arms crossed, crimson hair flowing in the dying vestiges of wind Daonnan had rode out on.

Walking back to gather his things and prepare to ride, Kaje turned from Faedra's side and walked back to where Kane yet stood. "Have thee any idea as to this great weapon Daonnan spoke of?"

Raising and large hand to his chin and scratching at his crimson beard, Kane stood silent for a moment ere answering the question put to him. And, thinking the large man had not heard him, Kaje, beginning to repeat his question, was cut off in mid sentence by the mage.

"I heard you the first time," said the large man as he turned to face Elf. "The weapon Daonnan spoke of is this sword I now carry," the mage said as he motioned with one hand toward the sword slung across his back. "It is a sword that has existed for ages...a sword that was wrought in a long ago age by a dark mage...a sword meant to delve out much destruction when wielded in a manner in which it was meant to be wielded."

"Where didst thou find this dark weapon? When did it come into thine possession? And in what fashion dost thou plan to wield it?"

"The sword was got at the tomb of Cronthos the day we separated in the Gwasp. As for wielding the weapon, it shall be used as it was meant, to rend the souls of the wielders foes," Kane said as he turned from Kaje and began to walk toward his mighty war horse; a look of profound concern now playing across his face.

Turning and following the mage Kaje asked, "So...as best I can discern from Daonnan's words, it shall be thee that faces Braxus in the battle we now run headlong toward."

Without turning to face the Elf, Kane spoke over his shoulder as he walked, terseness in his tone, "I suppose that shall be the way of it Elf . You and your friends do your part and I shall do mine."

Kaje stopped walking as the mage continued on to his horse. "Then, friend...I shall fight by thine side and ward thine back."

Now, having reached his horse, Kane, placing one hand on the cantle of his saddle and an arm across the seat, looked over his shoulder at Kaje. After looking at the Elf for a moment, the mage turned his head back toward his horse as he began checking the fastness of his saddle. "Your offer of help is not needed. For, as Daonnan said, we shall be warded from view by the ones of the wood." 

"That may be true," Kaje said. "Yet, once thee moves to attack Braxus I deem that thine cover from wood and vine will be no longer. At which point thine back shall need warding from something more formidable than wood and vine."

Then, letting out a long sigh, Kane said, "When the time comes, we shall see. Until then, your path should be with your friends."

"With my friends...right. Well, should thee need the aid of mine blades, they shall be ever ready to serve." And, turning from the brooding mage, Kaje walked to where Faedra stood fastening her pack to the rear of her saddle.

~*~

Phoenix walked from the campfire and began gathering her things, lost in thoughts of her own. Ever since speaking with Kane she had felt as if a heavy weight had been removed from her shoulders. She felt truly prepared for the battle ahead, or was that just wishful thinking? Shaking her head to clear it, she noticed Kaje speaking with Kane. 

"So...as best I can discern from Daonnan's words, it shall be thee that faces Braxus in the battle we now run headlong toward." the Alor said. 

Tilting her head to hear Kane's response, she listened on as they continued talking. 

Finally Kane said, "When the time comes we shall see. Until then your path should be with your friends." 

Phoenix sighed deeply. "Stubborn mage." she thought to herself as Kaje turned and walked back towards Faedra. 

As Kane turned his attention back to his horse, Phoenix walked up to him. "I overheard what the two of thee where talking about. Thou plan's on facing Braxus alone, eh?' 

Kane turned and looked at her, "What of it?" he said. 

"I won't let thee go alone, that's what." Phoenix replied. "I will go with thee whether or not thou dost wish my aid!" 

Kane narrowed his eyes and glared at her, "This is my fight. I do not need your help!" 

Placing her hand on her hip and returning the mage's glare, she said, "Thou dost not need fight alone Kane. Besides, mayhap I'm not offering to come along just to help thee." A questioning look upon Kane's face, she continued, "Mayhap I wish to come with thee for mine own sake. I have many demons to slay, where better to start then with Braxus himself?" As the big mage began to argue, Phoenix interrupted him, "Thou did say that thou would teach me the ways of travel with the mind. Mayhap I will be at thine side to make sure thou keeps that promise!" Truly smiling at Kane for the first time, she placed a bandaged hand upon his shoulder, saying softly, "Thou dost not need fight alone."

~*~

"So, what hast thee and Kane been talking about?" Faedra asked as Kaje approached her.

"I was asking as to the meaning of the great weapon of which Daonnan spoke."

"And?"

"It would seem that the weapon in question is in the possession of Kane. And, though I have offered to fend his back during the attack and his upon Braxus, he has put me off some."

"You offered to do what?" Faedra asked in a sharp voice.

"When he attacks Braxus, his ward from wood and vine may be removed. And, should this be the case, I have offered to ward his back from attack."

Then, reaching out and grasping the Dara by the shoulders with his hands, Kaje looked deep into her eyes. "If Kane is to defeat Braxus, he may need all the help he can get."

Raising a finger to the Dara's lips, Kaje halted the question she was about to ask ere saying, "Remember, none of us have faced this beast. And, if he is the master of the ones that have attacked us, he may prove to be a formidable foe. So, it only makes sense that Kane be afforded the best chance to fight this beast. And, his chances would be greatly diminished should attack come upon him from others as he engages Braxus."

As she took in the words he had said, tears welled in her eyes as the darkest of thoughts flashed in her mind. Then, throwing her arms about his waist and hugging him unto her, she said, "Then if thou shalt move to guard his back, I shall fight by thine side."

"We shall see love...we shall see," he said as he held the Dara's light form in his arms.

The group of warriors were soon ahorse and moving across the land at a steady gate that would not o'er tire the beasts but, at the same time, would see them to their destination in due time. Once out of the dark wood, the group turned south and hammered down the land, riding for Drear ford. And, after some time, the river Caire hove into view. Now, having drawn even with Drear ford, the group turned east and set off for the dark wood once more. 

Picking their way through the scattered shrubbery lined along the fringes of the wood, the group selected a suitable spot to tie their steeds. Now, trotting through the heavy growth of the dark wood, the group moved along an ever easterly path that seemed to be laid out before them; the vegetation parting before the warriors as they walked.

Nearing a league and some into the wood, the sounds of Braxus' curs could just be heard by the Elves; Sargienka and Julina not having the keen hearing of the Elves did not catch the faint sounds of howls and screeches that came from the dark horde.

"We are almost upon them," Kaje said as he stopped and listened intently to the sounds drifting through the wood.

"Are you sure we are warded from sight?" Sargienka asked, the Warrow looking about the woods around the group and to the sky. "If I can see beyond our group and out into the wood, and sky for that matter, can't those skulking about see us?"

"Step from the path we now follow," said Kane.

"For what purpose?"

"Just do as I ask and you shall see for yourself," the large warrior mage said as he gestured toward the woods beyond with a hand.

"Fine, I shall do as you say," said Sargienka a bit defiantly; the damman throwing her hands up as she spoke, then stepping off into the woods away from the path.

"Now little one, turn and look this way."

All in the group watched as the damman stopped some paces away from the path and then turned back the way she had come. "Lor!" Sargienka exclaimed, her mouth falling agape as she looked back toward the group. "All appears as naught but trees and brush! It's as if all have vanished!"

"Daonnan said we would be warded from sight, and I deem these beings of the wood are quite clever when it comes to such. For as thee stands there away from us, we can see thee quite well yet we are hidden from thine sight."

"How do they do it?" the Warrow asked, a look of amazement yet upon her face. 

"I know not my little friend, and I shall not question it. But I would say this: If we should become separated from one another during the battle, and we most likely will, I would have all return to the edge of the wood where we entered. For I know not if we shall remain hidden from view after the battle. Most likely we will not, but if so, make for the edge of the wood. There we shall all meet up once again." Kaje received nods from all in the group save Kane; Sargienka nodding as well as she stepped back onto the path with the rest of the group.

And so, onward the group trekked, onward toward a battle that could end the terror that stalked the land and threatened all upon it. Onward they marched, no words being spoken and there path ever opening before them; sometimes turning one way, sometimes another, yet always leading them toward the massive horde of Braxus and the impending battle.


	33. Tales of the Black Sword

****

Chapter Thirty-three

Tales of the Black Sword

__

Some 200,000 years ago on a far plane:

A gnarled hand gripped the edge of the still smoking crater, followed by a short and twisted body that hauled itself over the rim. Then, standing on the edge, the gnome reached down and took hold of a chain that was attached to its ankle. Hand over hand it pulled up the chain, soon hoisting up a small metal cage that held the new fallen meteor. 

Watching the affair from some distance away stood the master, wrapped in the white pelt of some long furred beast.

The master was a huge being. Thick corded muscles covered his exposed limbs, and bulged from beneath the shaggy furs, the thews moving under his skin like twisting serpents. A pointy-eared bald head sat atop his bull neck, close set black eyes darting hither and yon. His skin was dark and leathery, his hands covered with the thick calluses of hard labor. The master was no dainty being but a worker, a forger of iron and steel, a weapon smith.

Now he would have his greatest triumph, create his greatest weapon, for the Gods themselves had sent him metal from the heavens, from the very stars! Starsilver for his new sword! 

Spreading his arms to the heavens, Hephestaphlease roared his thanks to the Gods. Then, spinning on his heels he led the way back to his cavern forge, the twisted gnome following behind, meteor slung across its back. 

__

Approximately 100,000 years ago

With a pair of long handled thongs, Hephestaphlease held the glowing ingot aloft. The cherry red star-silver illuminating the interior of the dark forge. The sword smith then lay the hot lump across his anvil, and selecting a sledge from the worktable, proceeded to strike the glowing metal. The resulting concussions filled the cave in which he worked, echoing throughout the many caverns and grottoes in the complex. 

Myriads of sparks flew wide at each blow of the great hammer, like tiny meteors falling to the floor, bouncing around before they cooled. The smith mumbled words of power as he worked the glowing metal, readying the weapon for the final spell that would make it a truly great weapon.

Under the skilled hands of the smith the piece of formless Star metal soon took on the shape of a smooth shiny bar, the impurities having been worked out in the initial smelting and forging process. 

As the glow of the metal dimmed, once again the huge thewed smith jammed the bar again into the coke and motioned to the bellows worker. 

The twisted dwarf that worked the bellows began to once again pull on the rope that worked the huge windbag. A blaze of white-hot fire rose from the forge as the air blew into it from below. 

When the bar once again glowed the right hue, the smith drew it forth and proceeded to work it into the desired shape, now hammering it into a flattened bar, into the rough shape that he would soon forge into his weapon, his sword of power. 

~*~

As the new girl was brought in kicking and screaming, Candice cowered with the others in the corner of the cell, wondering of her fate. The stunted gnome had kidnapped each of them in turn, dragging them to this place and casting them into the damp prison. A deep, dark cave somewhere in the complex known as the howling caves. 

Candice had been stolen from her very room in the mid of night .She had been awakened by rough handling as a bag was thrown over her head and she was carried down the back stairs, carted off into the night to a fate only Adon knew. 

She looked down at the torn and dirty sleeping gown that she wore. The one that her mother had made for her to celebrate her sixteenth birthday, then she started to cry, her soft tears falling on the cold dark stones. 

Nine maidens in all had been thus stolen from their homes, some from the very arms of their slain parents, all in their sixteenth year, fully into their womanhood, yet virgins all.

Soon the twisted man would bring them food and leer at them through the bars of the cell, spittle dripping from the corner of his mouth, his foul breath rasping through rotten teeth. He would gaze and lust for their young flesh but he would not rape or spoil them, only watch and drool. Surely he was the servant of some vile overlord, sent to steal them away from their beloved homes for some evil purpose.

She listened to the hammering sounds that resounded through the caverns, the sounds of a blacksmith at work. She had heard that sound many times before as her parents took her to the nearby town, her beau Tom being the son of a blacksmith himself. If only her Tom were here, he would surely rescue her! 

Candice began weeping anew, and the tears fell down and down. 

~*~

Candice screamed and fought to no avail, the misshapen gnome pulling her onward by the hair. Into a huge cavern she was dragged and across it. Even as she kicked at her foul captor and gouged at him with her nails, she was hoisted from the floor and her hands bound far apart in manacles of iron that hung from the dark recesses of the caves ceiling. Her feet were then bound, as she thrashed about, to another pair of rings approximately three feet apart, set in the cold moist stone of the cavern floor.

The huge blacksmith turned from his forging to lay the bar of metal that he had been hammering once again into the hot coals. Fire and sparks leaped upward as another twisted servant pulled on the bellows chain. 

Striding toward her, the bald smith took hold of her shift, tearing it from her body with a tremendous wrench and cast it from him. He then looked her up and down appraisingly. An evil grin spread across his face as he glanced over his shoulder at the metal beginning to glow in the fires of the forge. Thus she hung, spread eagled and naked before her captors, in the full glory of her youth.

After a final look at young Candice, the evil swordsmith turned once again to the work at hand; the rough worked blade would soon be ready. Hephestaphlease muttered power words to the sword blank as he turned it in the brimstone fires of his forge, preparing it for the next stage of the process, the quenching. 

~*~

"MORE FIRESTONE!" yelled Hephestaphlease, lashing with his booted foot. He connected with the body of the shrunken dwarf, knocking him to the floor. "THE FORGE GROWS COLD!"

The misshapen little man jumped to his feet and scampered to the coal bin. Scooping firestone into the barrow with his hands, he then trundled the stone to the forge and began heaping it around the edges of the blaze as the master worked it into the fire with an iron poker. 

"Away with you, vermin!" bellowed the master, brandishing the smoking brand, "I have no more need of you this day!" The dwarf scuttled from the light, hiding himself among the shadows.

Rubbing his bruised ribs, Garnox the dwarf gazed from the darkness, his wide eyes reflecting the red blaze of the forge-fires. " I shall slay the master ", he muttered to himself, "The sword shall be mine and the master shall be no more… I shall be the master!" He covered his mouth, trying to drown out his laughs of glee at his hastily thought out plan. The sword would soon be done, and it would be his…HIS!

Garnox watched wide-eyed as the master lifted the cherry-red blade from the fire with a pair of tongs and approached the cowering maiden. 

~*~

Candice screamed a high pitched wail as the red-hot blade plunged through her young, sweet, breast. The sizzle of flesh filled the air, along with the foul stench of burnt tissue. Hephestaphlease thrust the blade fully to the tang through the heart of the young girl that hung suspended before him, quenching the hot metal in the body of the maiden. The blade drank its fill of virgin life's-blood.

Even as he initiated this foul piercing, the smith continued muttering the black words of power, arcane spells that would ready the blade for the final importation of the soul. This would render the blade sentient at the final making.

When the body stopped its twitching, the life leaving its eyes, the smith withdrew the now cooled blade and lay it again in the glowing fire, reheating it for the next forging.

When the blade reached its cherry red hue, the evil weapon-maker transferred it to the anvil and began folding the bar over into itself, hammering with the practiced strokes that would weld it into one solid piece again.

Back in the cell, eight maidens huddled together. They had heard the heart wrenching screams and even now guessed at their fate. On through the night the dreadful hammering continued, the sounds knelling in their youthful ears like the very bells of 'Hel. 

~*~

Ten long weeks passed as Hephestaphlease continued his evil making, the screams of young girls resounding through the caves as the sword drank its fill of virgin blood. 

Nine times he had folded the blade, welding in an extra piece before the third, sixth, seventh, and ninth folds. This created a piece of Damascened metal with six hundred sixty six layers, the blood of an innocent maiden forged between each layer. 

Placing a hardy tool into the square hole in the end of the anvil, Hephestaphlease selected a rounded hammer. Then, Working quickly, he began to run a fuller the entire length of the dark blade. This would strengthen the blade and give a protected place to place the glyphs.

As the smith finished the final quenching, he let out a tremendous sigh. Laying the rough blade onto the anvil, he then tramped to the corner and collapsed into the furs strewn there. He would rest now. Later, after he had rested, he would complete his masterpiece of metal and magic.

Twisted Garnox scuttled from the shadows when the snores of his master commenced. Stepping lightly to the unfinished sword, he ran his gnarled hands over the rough surface of the blade, humming a soft tune. "Soon master", he crooned, " very soon", as he gazed at the sleeping smith. 

~*~

Hephestaphlease dropped the engraving tool unto the workbench and ran his callused hand over the finished runes on the dark blade. An evil grin playing across his coarse features, he arose and crossed the cavern to the grinding and finishing wheel, yelling for his servant as he went. The sword was no longer silver but a deep black from the lifes blood mixed within the metal

Garnox the gnome stepped from the small rickety platform onto the top of a huge wheel. He then began to walk, slowly at first, then with greater speed as the great flywheel began to turn more quickly. Once the stone wheel had reached a sufficient speed, the smith pulled on a lever engaging the belt and gears that turned the grinding and polishing wheels." Faster slave faster!" he yelled at the laboring gnome. "A taste of my whip will speed your feet!"

Sparks flew into the air as Hephestaphlease lowered the blade to the grinding stone, shaping the edges of the blade and sharpening it. When the edge of the blade had reached a sufficient sharpness, the smith moved to the finishing wheel and began the polishing process. After the final polishing the blade again shone with a fine mirror finish, though under the silvery surface it was as black as death. 

The huge weapon maker then began to craft the hilt of the sword. Spreading quillions in the shape of outstretched arms formed the guard. The hilt itself was of human bone wrapped in gold wire, the pommel sculpted into the shape of a grasping hand. Within the hand was held the token of power that would house the unfortunate soul that would inhabit the weapon.

Now the summoning would commence. A demon from 'Hel would be raised and imprisoned in the sword, giving life to the now empty blade. Hephestaphlease placed the gem on a small holder that stood in the middle of a hectagram incised into the stones of the floor. The evil weapon maker then rolled back the sleeves of his robe and began to chant the spell of summoning.

Garnox peered from the shadows, his eyes focusing first on the sword, then on the cloud beginning to rise inside the glyph of protection. A dark fog formed in the symbol, filling the room with the stench of brimstone, and rising into the mist that bellowed within the glyph, a dark spirit of immense power, a demon!

Even as Hephestaphlease finished the invocation, Garnox rushed from the shadows. Grabbing the blade from the table, he plunged it deeply into the back blacksmith. The blade slid easily into the flesh of Hephestaphlease, drinking deeply of his black soul, the very essence of his life.

Cursing, the smith spun and knocked the offending gnome across the room, but as he did, he stumbled into the glyph of protection that kept the demon imprisoned. With the sound of a loud whirlwind, the souls of both the demon and the smith passed into the gem, filling the void that existed there. The empty body of the smith fell to the floor in a heap. 

~*~

Garnox the gnome cast a quick glance behind as he fled the howling caves. Slung across his shoulder, the blanket wrapped sword banged hither and yon threatening to cut through the coarse woven wool. 

The full harvest moon blazed brightly in the autumn sky, turning the dwarfs shadow into that of a giant beast loping across the sand. The voices in his head screamed even louder now that he had escaped the caverns, "STOP…STOP" He pleaded, "GET OUT OF MY HEAD!" 

Running atop the granite sea cliffs, Garnox tried to escape the voice of his master that screamed and taunted within his mind. "NO…YOU ARE DEAD! THE SWORD IS MINE…MINE!" The dwarf cried. He fell to the ground, legs giving way, the sword falling to the stones of the cliff that yawned before him. Tears of fear streamed from his eyes as he fought to regain control over his failing limbs.

Climbing again to his feet he hugged the sword to his burly chest and continued onward, his breath coming in ragged gasps from the exertion. 

Reaching a steep abutment, he looked upward. Slinging the weapon across his chest, he began to ascend. Climbing to the utmost peak of the cliffs. As the rocks fell down and away from his perch, Garnox raged at the darkling sea. "I AM MASTER NOW…GARNOX IS MASTER!" 

Garnox fell to his knees and buried his face in his hands. Pale rivulets streaked his ugly face where the tears had washed away the grime and dirt. He tried to regain his feet but could not. Too late he came to realize that he would not be free of the master. He would not be free until the sword was destroyed. 

Untying the blade from his chest, he tried to fling it into the sea…he could not! Somehow his strength failed him; his very hands refused to obey him.

"NOW YOU DIE!" the Masters voice screamed within his tortured skull, "COME TO ME!"

"NO STOP…STOP" Garnox bawled as his own gnarled fingers closed around the possessed blade, cutting deeply into his hands. "I WON'T DO IT… I WON'T"

Ever so slowly against his protestations, his own sweaty hands raised the weapon, angling the blade toward his twisted torso. Bright blood burbled from between his sliced fingers as he fought against the will of the evil blade, striving to hold it from his body.

Unable to overcome the coercion of the sword any longer, the gnome grimaced and yowled in pain as his own hands slowly slid the evil weapon deep into his bowels.

Garnox gave a horrible cry as the soul was sucked from his body and devoured by the sword he had taken so many pains to acquire. His eyes rolled back in his head as his swollen tongue stifled the hideous cries and he breathed his last.

Tumbling from the cliff, the impaled gnome bounced from the crags of the granite edifice and struck the sea with a great splash. The body bobbing to the surface only briefly before the undertow pulled it down beneath the cold, black waves.


	34. The Final Battle

****

Chapter Thirty-four

The Final Battle

Braxus sat atop a small hummock that jutted upward in the middle of the cleft, red eyes watching the horde that milled about the vale. Five score or so of the foul canine creatures lounged and fought over bones in the rocky area below the demon prince. In the nearby trees, perched another two score and five of the bat-winged raptors, yellow eyes surveying the area.

"I deem this is not the total of his dark hoard?" Kaje surmised. He and the mage had crept forward to spy out the vale, leaving the others waiting a few strides behind.

Kane closed his eyes. A moment passed, then he replied, "Nay", and opened them. "Twice as many range a league to the north, searching out the forest for fresh meat."

" Now then, would be the time to attack ", stated Kaje, " When their forces are divided."

"Aye", nodded the crimson haired warrior-mage, "I shall get closer to the place where the foul demon squats." He whispered to Kaje. "When I signal thee, begin thy attack."

"I like not this idea"' the Lian said, "let us stick together."

The Mage narrowed his eyes at this, fixing his fiery blue orbs upon the elf.

Kaje looked deeply into the blue pits of Kane's eyes and saw the resolve there. "As you wish. What shall be thy signal?" he inquired, raising his eyebrows.

"Ye shall know it." The mage replied, then faded into the woods.

Dara Phoenix, watching the happenings in the small canyon did not notice as the mage disappeared into the dense brush.

"Be ready to attack on my word", Kaje said, motioning the other warriors to take their places at the woods edge. "We shall draw their attention and fight from the cover of the trees. Perhaps the wards of Daonnan shall keep us safe here."

Julina knelt close to Alor Kaje, arrow nocked. "Where is he going?", she questioned, motioning to where the mage had disappeared into the woods, "With the fight ready to begin?" 

Before the Alor could answer her question a long, loud howl split the air. From the south, a black slavering face peered at them from the trees fifty feet away. Then it raised its fang filled muzzle to the sky to send another bone chilling howl into the air.

Without thinking, Julina drew and loosed. The quarrel sped across the trail among the trees transfixing the foe, spitting it to a tree.

With a fearsome cry, Vanidor leapt from the trees, swinging his two-handed sword in a long horizontal arch. The first cur he reached was smashed aside, careening into two of its fellows. All 'Hel broke loose in the vale.

Kaje cursed and leapt to Vanidor's side from the shelter of the scrub, followed by Faedra and Phoenix. Arrows whizzed from the bushes to skewer black canines, testament of the deadly accuracy of Warrow and human bows.

~*~

As the sounds of battle ensued, Kane cursed and looked through the brush into the vale. He had been working his way northward, closer to the spot where Braxus knelt upon the low hummock. He had hoped to spring his trap in secret but now that could not be.

The warrior mage whipped the black sword from the sheath upon his back. Then, in five great strides, sprinted to the rim of the vale and 'leapt with all his might.

The crimson haired giant sailed through the air to land with a tuck and roll upon the rocky hill, which Braxus occupied. Completing his roll, Kane came to his feet, ebon blade streaking toward the horned head of the demon lord. A blade of pure fire wielded by Braxus himself met the singing blade of Kane. As the blades of two giants collided, a loud BOOM like that of thunder resounded through the vale. 

~*~

Suddenly the forest seemed to come alive, vines and branches whipping about as if a great wind blew, but a wind there was not. The forest creepers stretched out, entwining the flying beasts, crushing them in a wooden grasp. 

Raptors screeched in dismay as the vines and tendrils whipped to and fro, rending winged bodies limb from limb. Bat-like body parts fell from the forest canopy above to rain down upon the battle below.

"UGH!" Spat Sargienka, knocking a falling wing aside, "It even rains death!"

"Aye, little one", replied Phoenix as she clove a black pelted cur cleanly down the middle, "Focus on the battle at hand, not the falling gore!"

TWANG!… THOCK!… Went the deadly arrows of the warrow; an evil wolf creature falling with each shaft that sped from the formidable bow.

BWANG!…THUNK!… Followed the arrows of Julina, also finding vulnerable areas and felling the foe.

~*~

The battle 'tween Kane and Braxus raged back and forth across the hummock, black starsilver versus fiery brimstone blade. Showers of sparks flew wide as the blades connected, booms of thunder filling the air of the vale. 

Braxus towered over Kane, outweighing the mage at least two to one, yet the raw fury of the warrior-mage kept the demon from pressing his attack. The huge wings of the demon beat at the air, sending dirt and dust flying up around the warring pair.

Kane's face was twisted with rage. Great cords of muscle bulged from his bull neck as he gritted his teeth and fought on. The battle between the two titans seemed a blaze of crimson hair and fire, yellow sparks setting the brush afire.

Kane bore the smoking evidence of a few unparried blows, cauterized cuts on his arms and legs from the fiery blade of Braxus. 

Braxus let out a loud bellow, calling for aid from his most formidable ally,"Azrael, Come!" 

The sound of an evil hiss filled the wood as the call of the demon lord was answered. Flitting from tree to tree, the shadows came. Spectres led by their lord and king, Azrael.

~*~

Kaje was the first to notice the evil shadows. "To me! To me!" He cried, as he fought off two black curs. Forcing his way through the bedlam, the Alor took his stand at the bottom of the hill upon which Kane and the devil battled, warding the mage's back against the black curs and the evil spectres just now emerging from the whipping woods.

The Alor appeared to be the very God of war. He stood, legs braced wide, chest heaving. He gripped a gore-spattered blade in each hand, weaving death. Yet not all the blood was that of his enemies. Gashes and tears, some streaming bright blood, covered him from head to foot. His leathers hung in tatters, sleek muscles showing through the rents in his clothing.

Phoenix fought with her mind firmly rooted in the void. The Dara felt no fear or fatigue as she methodically slew the dark foe. Her astral sight allowing her to see the battle fully, even the happenings behind her were vivid to her minds eye. Wading through the four footed foe, she responded to the call of Kaje. Rallying to the hill to ward Kane as he battled the Demon Prince to the death.

Faedra protected the female archers as they sent hissing death from the cover of the woods. Furry carcasses littered the ground, testament of the foul spawn that thought the small bowmen an easy target. So many of the foe swarmed between them and Kaje that they could not answer the call.

The long blade of Vanidor could be seen in the distance, hewing into the masses that seemed to overwhelm him. 

Standing over the only exit out of the small vale, Kaje and Phoenix fended the hideous black curs scrambling up the hill towards them. Slicing down with a sword at one of the swart beasts, Kaje kicked at another at the same time; the kicked vilka tumbling back down the hill and thus encumbering the progress of the others for an instant. And, in this short respite, Phoenix shouted over the howls and shrieks of battle, "I thought Daonnan was to give aid in the battle? As of yet all I've seen is a few vines rending raptors in the trees!"

"I know not his plans," shouted back Kaje, his breath coming in great heavy gasps, his eyes catching an occasional flash from the swords of the two that battled on the hill above him. "I do hope he sets to the beasts soon. Else we shall have come to fight for naught!"

And once again the beasts made their way up the hill, racing up the slot leading out of the vale; slathering jowls gapping to snap at leg and foot, dark forms preparing to spring from coiled haunches, all seeming as a dark mass boiling up the slope.

Preparing for the coming beasts, Kaje chanced a look over his shoulder to where Faedra fought; Julina and Sargienka winging deadly shafts from the protection of the Elfess' sword; the Dara appearing tired as sweat beaded on her brow, her chest heaving for breath, here and there about her body blood flowing from small wounds. And on she fought, as did the two at her side.

Then, just as the vilka we about to gain the crest of the vale and come unto Kaje and Phoenix, all gathered in the area stumbled as they felt the ground shift, the very land all stood upon now rising upwards as if the ground sought to take breath; a rumble from deep within the ground sending tremors out and away from the vale, trees, allies, and foe set to shake as did the ground. At the sudden movement of the ground, the vilka held their progress for but a second ere continuing forward, savage dark beasts loping toward the foe.

Disregarding the sudden shift in the land, Kaje, steadying himself, brought his blades about for the next attack, Phoenix bringing her sword to bare as well; the two glancing at each other as they made ready to defend their position, both wondering at the sudden land shift, yet saying naught.

Now, leaping the last five feet between them and the Elves, the vilka attacked again. Blades flashed through the air, blood and gore again sent to splatter across vegetation and ground. And again the ground heaved upwards, again the deep rumble came forth from the ground, again all standing on the land trembled as did the ground; the loose dirt leading up the hill to where Phoenix and Kaje stood giving way to the vilka's clawed feet, the dark beasts yet trying to gain the crest but sliding back into the bowls of the ravine even as they tried.

Taking advantage of the misfortune of the vilka, Kaje turned to look toward Kane as he fought the great demon upon the hill above. As he stood looking at the raging battle there, his eyes transfixed by the fiery flashes that emitted from the swords of the two fighting there, he became aware that the rumble in the ground had not yet stopped. And, as Phoenix nudged him, 'Adon!' coming from her mouth, he turned to see what had amazed her so. There before them, the very ravine seemed to be folding in upon itself, the ground around the ridges of the vale crumbling inwards and covering the foe within. 

"Daonnan?" Phoenix shouted over the rumble. 

"I would say so," Kaje shouted back. Then, "Faedra!" The Alor now running with all speed to where the Dara fought, the two small ones now swinging at the foe with their bows, their arrows spent.

Blasting into the rear of the vilka, Kaje fought with new vigor and strength. Vilka turning to attack the Alor were cut down as they spun, the keen Katana's the Alor wielded slicing through hide and muscle. Yet his blade was not alone...Phoenix now attacked from the other side of the fray.

Soon all were involved, the collapsing ravine forgotten, survival the only concern as foe attacked ally, ally attacked foe, metal bit into hide, and tooth bit into flesh. Now, having gained the Faedra's side, Kaje turned his back to her as each fought on, both now fending the two small ones from attack, as well as each other. Phoenix, now fighting alone on the outer rim of the vilka, soon found herself overwhelmed and was being pressed backwards toward the collapsing ravine; the forest behind her obscured buy great plumes of dust rising into the air as earth churned over and into the ravine behind her.

Desperately fighting off the black beasts, Phoenix turned her thoughts inward, the Dara seeking the calm and steely resolve of her 'ki'. And, finding that tranquil place in her mind, she fought on, her sword of energy slicing through foe. Yet still she was pressed backwards, though slower than before. 

Suddenly, as she fought, Phoenix felt her foot press down onto unsteady ground; the Dara now pressed back to the very edge of the ravine and the churning ground within, dust billowing up and around her. "Rayne," she spoke the name in her mind as she fought. "I may be joining thee soon my sister," the thought echoing within her mind as she prepared for her own demise. Then, of a sudden from behind the beasts attacking her, there came a great cry and many shrieking howls as Vanidor swung his mighty blade; the two handed sword cutting down foe, the extensive silver blade hewing as its wielder shouted in rage, the enraged Elf seeking revenge upon those that had slain his beloved. And, the attack upon her now lessened some, she began to move away from the lip of the ravine. Phoenix soon forgot her thoughts of death as renewed hope shown upon her plight.

And still, high above all, the battle between Kane and Braxus raged on, the specter Azrael swirling about the two as they fought. 

~*~

Even as the battle 'tween canine, Sylva, human and Warrow raged in the corpse choked crevasse, the battle of titans continued. Kane was now totally on the defensive. The fiery sword of the demon lord moving with the blazing speed that the mage could barely parry.Then, Kane was down. The tail of the devil had whipped out, entangling the feet of the battling mage, throwing him to the ground.

Having witnessed this turn of events, Dara Phoenix and Alor Kaje rushed to the hill, trying to forestall the inevitable death of the mage at the hand of Braxus. 

The prince of evil stood over his fallen foe, raising his blazing brimstone sword above his head to deliver the final 'coup de ta. As a final act of defiance, Kane invoked the true name of the dark blade, something until now he had dreaded to do. "Hephestaphlease!" he screamed.

The resulting concussion threw the two Lian to the ground, tumbling them from the hill to lie gasping among the slain foe. This also caused Braxus to falter in his blow. A black aura sprang up around the blade of Kane, the nimbus of inky darkness radiating outward. 

The prince of demons drew back, shielding his eyes from the strange glare as Kane regained his feet. The red haired mage attacked, launching blow after blow at the reeling demon, the ire of the warrior mage driving him to new heights of endurance. This renewed fury drove Braxus back and back; the devil could no longer fend the blows of the now true-named weapon. 

Kane somehow seemed to grow more powerful with each blow of the black blade, a wide grin spreading across his twisted visage. 

Suddenly, a bolt of dark lightning shot from the black sword to strike Braxus full in the chest, throwing him backwards to lay stunned upon the smoking turf. The fiery sword fell from his unfeeling fingers, its blaze extinguishing. 

Laughing an evil laugh, Kane strode to his fallen foe. Slowly and deliberately he slid the black blade into the chest of the fallen demon prince. 

As the blade drained the life force from the demon lord, a noticeable transformation came over the spent mage. New strength flowed into his exhausted form, power from the evil soul of Braxus now coursing through his veins.

Kane stumbled back as if he had been struck, eyes agape, somehow still clutching the ebon sword as it pulled free of the shriveled corpse of the slain demon. Smoke curled from between the fingers of his left hand as he gripped the wire wrapped hilt of the weapon. The mage stared at his hand then around at the vale as if surprised at his surroundings. 

Throwing his arms wide, Kane raged at the sky. Words in an unknown language poured from his lips, cryptic words, intermingled with hoarse laughs and fell whisperings. A great wind sprang up as the sky darkened, great gray storm clouds rolling across the 'scape. Lightning crashed across the sky, great claps of thunder resounding. Kane stood in the midst of this conflagration, gazing about, crimson mane whipping in the furious breeze. 

Seeming to take notice of the small party that had accompanied him to this final battle, the mage spun on his heels and glared at them. It was then that they noticed his eyes. Kane's eyes had changed from penetrating blue to bottomless ebon black. The evil weapon now possessed him fully. 

~*~

"HE INVOKED THE SWORD AND NOW ITS EVIL HAS POSSESSED HIM!" Kaje yelled, trying to be heard above the howling wind. "WE MUST GET HIM FREE OF THE BLACK WEAPON!"

"HOW…HOW CAN WE DO IT?", Phoenix replied, also yelling, her face pressed close to his ear so that she might be heard. 

"I KNOW NOT… BUT IT MUST BE DONE!" The Alor yelled. Then, the blood froze in his veins. Too late Kaje saw his chier, Faedra running among the slain, toward the hill whereon stood the raging Kane. "NOOOOO!" he yelled rushing in pursuit of his love, Faedra, but she could not hear him above the rushing winds. 

The possessed mage stabbed the black blade toward the sky. Malevolence from the trapped soul of Hephestaphlease filled the air, causing hair to stand on end and skin to prickle. Then, the black clouds burst forth with torrents of freezing rain, drenching the vale in the sudden downpour.

"KANE…KANE…RELEASE THE SWORD, THROW IT AWAY!" ordered Faedra, rushing up the hill that the possessed mage stood atop. The mage backhanded her contemptuously. The Dara was knocked from the hummock by the great strength of the red haired giant to fall rolling among the dead at the foot of the hill.

Quickly, Phoenix entered the void, trying to reach the crazed mage on a subconscious level, what she met there sent her screaming back to reality.

"Enough of this", Thought Vanidor, "Now you die Kane!" The Lian attacked, two-handed sword swinging in a deadly arch towards Kane's back. As if sensing the approaching stroke, The mage spun, black sword moving with lightning speed to strike the blade of Vanidor's sword, shattering it and knocking the Alor to the ground. 

Being freed from the thrall of Braxus at last, Azrael and his shadowy minions decided now was the time to attack. The spectres poured from the woods and sped toward the stunned comrades. Phoenix spun and met them with her blazing spirit sword. Knowing the danger of the sword, Azrael turned to the side to let his minions continue the fight against this dangerous adversary. 

~*~

"Vash!!" Phoenix shouted after tearing her mind away from what she had encounterd in Kanes' own. "What has he unleashed!!" 

She looked on helplessly as Vanidor rushed to confront the possessed mage, unable to stop the Alor in time. Cursing under her breath, she made a move towards the two, even as Vanidor's sword shattered and he was whelmed to the ground. Before she could take two strides though, she felt something pulling at the back of her mind. 

Spinning about, sword blazing forth from her hand, she prepared herself for this new threat, eyes flying wide at what she saw. "Spectre's!!" she shouted to the others, hoping they heard her over the wind and rain. 

Kaje looked up from where he knelt at Faedra's side, Julina and Sargienka looking on in concern, warding them. Yet cradling the Dara in his arms he held one blade at the defensive, ready to protect her at any cost. 

Cursing yet again, Phoenix focused her attention on the oncoming spectres, realizing it may be up to her to defend the others from these creatures of the astral plane. Narrowing eyes in concentration, she focused her 'ki', silver waves of energy emanating from all about her. Focusing upon the tortured spirits rushing towards her, she noticed that one turned to the side. "Later." she thought, turning her mind to what she was about to attempt, and praying to Adon that it would work. Suddenly, her spirit sword faded, having been absorbed into the waves of 'ki' raging around her. Her hair lifting on end, whipping back in the wind, eyes blazing bright silver, Phoenix stood in the midst of her life energy, letting it build up, surrounding her as if it were a shield. Slowly, she extended her arms forward, letting the 'ki' guide her, and brought her wrists together, hands seeming to hold between them a blazing ball of pure energy. The 'ki' became stronger, focusing in her palms, and with a great cry of "Renzoku Dan!!" she unleashed the energy, a beam of pure silver light pouring forth from her hands, completly annihilating the first few ranks of spectres. 'Ki' still radiating about her, Phoenix smiled grimly. Falling to one knee, she let out a breath she didn't realize she had been holding. "Huah! I can't believe that worked!" she said aloud, not meaning to. Standing up again, swaying slightly, she prepared to face the few remaining spectres, who were now hesitant to attack. 

Turning her attention from the confused spectres, Phoenix looked to where Azrael hovered, rage contorting his features, as he shouted something to his remaining army of unfortunate spirits. Heeding his command the spectres lunged forward, resuming their attack. 

Glaring at Azrael, Phoenix called upon her blades of energy and hurled one towards him. Not bothering to notice if the blade reached it's mark, she again focused her attention to the remaining souls.


	35. Flight

****

Chapter Thirty-five

Flight

Swiftly moving aside, Azrael dodged the energy bolt Phoenix had cast at him; the flash of energy speeding upwards into the darkened sky to then become consumed by the boiling, dark clouds which blanketed the sky above Drearwood. Noticing that the Elfess now turned away from him, the Spectre turned his attention to the fiery maned Mage that wielded the dark sword. Swiftly swooping down toward the mage, Azrael now moved to fight for the dark weapon that would set him free of the astral plane.

Sensing the ethereal presence pressing toward him, Kane turned to meet the approaching Spectre. Raising the dark sword to fend the wraith, the Mage struck at the shade; the dark blade slicing through the being with little or no effect, dark wisps curling through the air as the blade clove a deep slash through the Spectre.

Looking up to where Kane stood, Kaje, now assured that Faedra was going to be okay, ran to Vanidor's side; the Elf laying upon the ground unconscious, the hilt of his great sword yet clasped in his hand. Leaning down over him, Kaje pressed his ear to Vanidor's chest. Hearing that his heart beat strong and true, Kaje stood and bent over the Elf; his hands grabbing Vanidor around the waist. Hefting the unconscious Elf up and over one shoulder, he turned and trotted back to where Faedra was now gaining her feet; Sargienka and Julina standing to either side of the Elfess as they helped her up.

"Away to the woods!" shouted Kaje over the blasting wind, the others nodding assent as they turned to follow him. 

Moving through the wind-lashed brush around the now covered vale, the four sought refuge behind a large oak. Laying Vanidor on the ground, the unconscious Elf now leaning against the aged tree, Kaje turned to Faedra. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he leaned toward her and spoke into her ear, "Art thou hale, _chier_?" 

"Aye, love, I shall be fine. Though I feel we must leave this place with all speed."

"We shall, love, we shall. Yet Phoenix still battles the Spectres, and I know not if we can aid her."

Turning from Faedra, Kaje peered around the oak standing between him and the open glade. Looking to where Phoenix battled the shades, he noticed that the Dara faired quite well against them; silvery bolts of energy blasting into Spectres, the shades exploding in air as the bolts struck true.

As the Dara moved across the ground, lethal blasts of energy spouting from her hands, Kaje turned back to the ones behind him. "Phoenix seems to be holding her own, for the time being. Yet I do not believe she can hold out much longer," he shouted over the deafening blast swirling about them. Looking to Faedra, he said, "Take Julina and Sargienka and return to our horses. Phoenix and I shall follow as soon as the chance presents itself."

"I will not leave thee behind," Faedra shouted.

"GO NOW!" Kaje shouted back, the urgency of his voice not lost to the wind. "I shall not be far behind," he said as he leaned toward the Dara and kissed her.

With a disconcerted look on her face, Faedra turned to head back into the woods; Julina and Sargienka already moving that way. Then, just before she stepped onto the path that opened before the two small ones as they retreated, she stepped back to Kaje and kissed him deeply upon the lips ere turning back to the path and striding away from her love.

Now, stepping from behind the tree, Kaje, though heavily buffeted by the blasting gale, ran to where Phoenix battled with the foe. As he neared her, the aural sphere that surrounded the Dara could be felt. The energy emitting from it giving the air an electrified feel. 

Loosing one last blast from her hands, five of the few remaining Spectres catching the crackling bolt full-on, Phoenix turned to see Kaje approaching her. Glancing one last time to the sky about glade, the few remaining shades retreating into the trees at the far side of the vale, the Dara lowered her hands; the energy shield surrounding her diminishing, the silvery glow in her eyes fading. Then, as the aural energy was withdrawn back into herself, she slumped forward and knelt on the ground; tired hands clasping her down-turned head.

Leaning over and placing his hands on the Dara's sagging shoulders, Kaje pulled her to her feet. Looking into her face he saw that her features were drawn and gaunt, her body trembling with weakness from energy spent in the fight.

"We must away from this place!" Kaje shouted into her ear. "Canst thou walk?"

Looking up at the Alor with tired eyes, she nodded. Placing an arm about her waist, Kaje helped her toward the tree Vanidor lay against. As they stepped behind the large tree, he spoke into her ear once again. "Canst thou travel unaided? For I must bare Vanidor away this place."

"Aye, I can. Though I know not for how long."

Once again hefting Vanidor up and over his shoulder, Kaje turned to her and shouted, "Let us away then. There, that way," the Alor pointing toward the place where Faedra and to two small ones had entered the wood. And, they were then away and moving through the wood, the sound of the blasting wind behind lessening some as they went.

"This path being laid before us, it leads south instead of east," said Kaje as he stopped to move Vanidor to the other shoulder. "I suppose we have no choice but to follow the path Daonnan lays before us. And pray it leads to safety."

After following the path for some time, Phoenix began to falter as she walked; the toll of expending so much energy upon the specters now becoming quite evident. Stumbling over a root laying exposed above the ground, Phoenix fell to the ground; the Dara breathing heavily, the breaths coming in short gasps, her drawn face now appearing pale.

Kneeling and placing his burden on the ground beside Phoenix, Kaje rolled her onto her back. Reaching up and opening first one eye and then the other with a finger, he saw that they were rolled back, the whites shot through with red. Cursing aloud, he looked from Dara to Alor as they both lay unconscious.

"I shall return for thee, my friend," Kaje said to Vanidor as he threw Phoenix over a shoulder and continued down the path before him.

~*~

Stepping from the path, Faedra lead Julina and Sargienka into the open glade before them. In the center of the glade a huge mound rose up from the ground, lush turf covering the whole of it. Stopping and kneeling on the ground, Faedra clasped the two in front of her by a shoulder and turned them to face her. "I must follow the path back to find Kaje. I deem this to be a safe place for ye to rest. I shall return with all speed."

"What if the Spectres find us?" Julina asked, the young girl standing before the Dara, bow in hand, empty quiver slung across her back. Sargienka standing beside her nodded to the question as she, too, looked to the Dara.

"Fear not, my friends. For Daonnan shall shelter thee from harm...or so I deem," she said with as resolute a tone as she could manage. "I shall return to thee as soon as I can. Go now and rest. For we may yet have to travel far to return to our horses." Then, looking up toward the sky and noting the potion of the sun, she said, "We have been traveling south and not east, the way back to our steeds. But, we shall worry about this whence I return with Kaje." And then she was away, the two small ones left alone in the glade with their worries and doubts.

Tramping down the path, Kaje had traveled some one-hundred yards when he and Faedra met. "Phoenix!?" Faedra said as she approached him. "Where is Vanidor, and why doth thee carry Phoenix?"

"She collapsed as we walked the path. Vanidor is some ways back. I shall return for him once Phoenix is laid in a safe place."

"Sanctuary is at hand," said Faedra. "Some two-hundred yards from here is a glade. Julina and Sargienka await me there. Here," she continued, now stepping beside Kaje and taking hold of Phoenix. "I shall bare her back to the glade. Thou shouldst return to Vanidor and bring him to the glade. There we can rest and mend our wounds."

Helping Faedra as she shouldered the Dara, Kaje asked, "Can thou bare her unto the glade?"

"I shall manage, love. Now, go and retrieve Vanidor."

Kaje turned and trod back the way he had come as Faedra turned to return to the Glade. Going as fast as he could, he came upon Vanidor in but a short time. Shouldering the Alor and turning back south, he moved back along the path as fast as he could.

Stepping from the path and into the glade, Kaje found Faedra, as well as the others, sitting at the base of the great mound. Walking to where they sat, he laid Vanidor upon the ground; the unconscious Elf moaning as he was laid upon the soft turf. 

~*~

Rummaging through a small pack slung across her chest, Sargienka withdrew clean bindings for cuts and a small amount of gwynthyme; the Warrow handing a leaf to each in the party and telling all to chew the leaf into a pulp and swallow only the juice. And, as they sat doing so, above and behind them, there atop the great mound, a flash of pure, white light spread out across the glade.

"Wha...!" Sargienka gasped as she winced at the flash; the others looking up, eyes shielded by hands.

"You have done well. The evil that dwelt here is now gone and the ones of the forest feel safe once again."

The group peered up toward the slight form of Daonnan as he spoke, their eyes yet shielded form the now fading glare emitting from him. The shepherd looking down on them noticed the many cuts and bites they had received in the fight. And, kneeling on the great mound, he placed his hands upon the turf, his head bowed, inaudible words streaming from his mouth. 

Far below the turf the party sat upon, the ground began to rumble. The heart of the sound moved from below them and into the mound itself. And, as they looked at Daonnan and to each other, there, riving down the side of the mound, a great cleft opened in the turf. Into this cleft Daonnan bade them walk.

"For what purpose?" Kaje asked as he stood to face the shepherd.

"Your wounds are many and dire. For your help in ridding my wood of the evil, I offer healing to you and your friends. Now, step into the opening and all shall be set right."

Faedra, Julina, and Sargienka looked from Daonnan to Kaje, the Warrow and Human looking to him with uncertainness in their eyes, Faedra's displaying complete trust in her love's decision. Turning to look back at the slight form atop the mound, Kaje merely nodded his head as he bade Faedra to take up Phoenix, he then leaning over Vanidor and hefting him over his shoulder.

Leading the group into the mound, Kaje stepped into the relative darkness before him; the air in the mound feeling cool and humid, the floor upon which he trod soft and welcoming, the strong smell of freshly turned earth hanging heavily in the air. Though he walked into the mound in a straight line, he did not encounter the closeness he had expected. Instead, once inside the mound, the space around him seemed open and airy. Turning around in the openness of the mound, he looked about as the others filed in behind him. 

"What are we to do now?" Julina asked as she too looked about in wonder at the seeming openness of the inside of the mound; her eyes, as well as the eyes of the others, just now adjusting to the green light emanating from the walls.

"Lay your friends upon the ground," came Daonnan's voice; Kaje and Faedra doing as asked. "Now...lay beside them. And do not be afraid," the shepherds words resonated in their ears.

As he lay upon the ground, Kaje noticed that, underneath his back and legs, the ground seemed to be giving way to his wait as he slowly sank into the dark, fertile soil. Trusting to the admonishment of Daonnan to not be afraid, all in the group, though a bit scared at what was happening to them, lay flat upon the ground as it enveloped them. As the soil moved up and over their chests, a sudden sense of weariness overcame them all and sleep soon quieted their thoughts.


	36. Kane and the Giant

**Chapter Thirty-six**

**Kane and the Giant**

Spectre and mage battled back and forth across the hummock. The fear casting of Azrael had no effect on Kane's tortured mind and the black sword seemed to have no effect on the spectre, Azrael having no life energy for the sword to devour. Simultaneously, Kane and Hephestaphlease battled for control of the red-haired body that now housed them both.

Azrael could not bring his superior aetherial forces to bear. He would have to wait till the battle for possession was completed, then he would wrest the sword from the survivor. The spectre retreated to the trees, awaiting the outcome of the mental struggle.

Relieved of the spectre's attacks, Kane resumed his mental struggle with the bladesmith of old. Other than the veins that stood out upon the brow of the mage and the clenching of his ivory white teeth, no battle could be seen.

It was a battle of wills raging within an iron flame of flesh and bone. The will of the swordmaker trying to leave the gem and consume the will of the mage, possessing his body and casting his vanquished soul to oblivion.

Only Kane's many centuries of training allowed him to fare as well as he did, keeping his body under control, though that control slipped away as the minutes passed.

Through the many weeks he had carried the sword, the evil spirit that lived within the blade had slowly seeped into his mind, entrenching itself into his very psyche. Kane had been careless and had ignored the small pricking in his mind, thinking himself to wise and powerful to fall under the weapon's control. Now he was slowly losing the battle that would prove to be his last.

As Kane fought for his very soul, Daonnan stood as the west face of the vale, pressing his forehead to the stone there. Deep within the rocks a knelling could be heard, rising in volume. Something approached the vale from far below.

Soon, the earth quaked, trees uprooting and rocks tumbling around the vale. Then, a split formed in the rock where stood Daonnan, the small white robed figure stepping aside. As the crack widened a huge hand thrust forth, pushing the sides of the crack wide, then, a Utruni stepped forth into the blasting winds and driving rain of the vale.

Striding quickly to the hill that rose in the center of the vale, the stone giant reached out to take hold of the sword arm of Kane, clamping him in a grip of iron and lifting him from the ground.

The Utruni squeezed. Kane bellowed in pain but would not release his grip on the ebon blade. Instead, he kicked and punched as he dangled from the massive fist of the giant.

The stone giant exerted more pressure. Soon the crunching of bone could be heard as Kane's wrist splintered. The sword tumbled to the ground, falling from unfeeling fingers. The glowing jewel struck the rocks and cracked, splitting asunder.

A great explosion followed the breaking of the gem, rending the vale and sending rocks and turf flying into the air.

The concussion flung Kane and the stone giant to the ground, the Utruni losing his grip on the now unconscious mage. Gem of power now broken ,the inky blackness of the sword faded, returning to its original metallic hue, the color of starsilver.

The storm quickly abated, wind fading and rain diminishing. The gray clouds parted to allow the last rays of the setting sun to fall into the vale.

The form of Azrael leapt from the woods' edge in glee . . . _The sword was now his!_ . . . As the spectre reached for the weapon, a thick root burst from the rocky soil and twined around the blade, holding in fast in a vise like grip. The spectre tried to pry it loose but to no avail.

The Utruni regained his feet and strode to wear the evil weapon now lay, the spectre fleeing before the stone fleshed giant.

In a voice not unlike the sound of grinding rocks the Utruni conversed with Daonnan who now stood with him. What was said between the two is not recorded, yet when they concluded their talk, the stone giant nodded, as did the white robed form of Daonnan.

The protector of Drearwood motioned and the squirming root passed the silver sword to the Utruni. Daonnan then bidding him to secret it away in the very bowels of the earth, far away from the mortals would try to possess it and also out of reach of the spectre who lusted for the blade.

With a nod, the jewel eyed giant disappeared back into the stone of the cliff, closing it behind him, smoothing the stone with his hands. Deep into the earth, the Utruni bore the black sword of Hephestaphlease, away from the memory of men.

Azrael raged at the loss of the sword, now he could not become flesh and blood again. He was doomed to the eternity of the unliving. Calling his remaining allies to his side, the king of the spectres then disappeared over the treetops and into the night.

Daonnan strode over to gaze down upon the crumpled form of the whelmed mage. Placing his hand on Kane's forehead, the tree shepherd smoothed the wrinkles from the furrowed brow and nodded, a smile spreading across his face. "Well done, my friend," he whispered. "Well done." Then he disappeared into the woods.

Mayhap Hephestaphlease died with the gem, mayhap not. Yet when Kane awoke his mind was his own.


	37. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

_"Phoenix." From deep within oblivion, she heard someone calling out to her._

_"Phoenix, help me." The voice was so familiar._

_"Rayne?" Phoenix said. "Rayne?"_

_The voice called out again and again, its urgency growing._

_Floating within her mind to where she though the source of the voice was, she called out "Rayne! Rayne, art thou here?" Searching about in complete darkness, Phoenix could not see where her twin might be. In despair she turned away, 'ki' urgently pulling her mind from the darkness. Of a sudden she felt something behind her, and turning, she saw the form of her sister._

_Bathed in a eerie glow, Rayne held her out her hands, beckoning Phoenix closer._

_She hesitated, her 'ki' growing more agitated, warning her that something was very wrong. Unheeding, Phoenix let herself rush into her sister's outstretched arms. Embracing her sister, Phoenix could feel the "wrongness" of Rayne's essence. Pulling herself away, she saw pain and despair within the ephemeral figure's eyes._

_"Phoenix, help me. Please, I know not how much longer I can fight him. Thou must save me!" Rayne pleaded. And then the figure screamed, a sound that pierced Phoenix's very soul, the sound of pure anguish echoing throughout her mind._

_"Rayne!" Phoenix yelled. "How . . . what can I do?!"_

_As Rayne's form began to dissolve, through pained voice came one word, "Mire." And with a bright flash of wicked energy Rayne was gone._

_In darkness once again, ki yet whispering of danger, Phoenix knew what she must do._

Opening her eyes, she looked around, confusion written upon her face. "What? Where am I?" she asked, her dream coming back to her. "Oh, Rayne," she whispered. "Hold on, sister. I am coming for thee." Trying to get to her feet, she found she didn't have the strength.

"Not yet, child," a voice said. "You yet need some rest.

Sitting up, Phoenix turned her head towards the source of the voice. "Daonnan?" she asked.

"Yes, I am here."

Confused, Phoenix again let her gaze roam around, just now noticing a faint green glow surrounding them. "Where exactly is here?" she asked.

Chuckling, Daonnan came and knelt by her side, "Somewhere safe, Dara. I brought you and your friends here to heal after the battle. You did take longer than the others to heal though. They have been worried."

Eyes flying wide, Phoenix reached out and grabbed Daonnan's shoulder's. "The battle!!" she cried, "Kane! What happened? And where are the others?"

Looking into her eyes, he smiled and said, "They were just outside. As for the rest of your questions, I deem they are best answered by your friends, though I will tell you that the mage is fine. They will be glad to see that you are finally awake."

Nodding in agreement, and embarrassed by her outburst, Phoenix took her hands away from the shepherd's shoulder. "And I will be glad to see them as well," she said quietly.

Sitting on the soft, fertile grass that covered the small glade, Faedra and Kaje talked of their plans for the days to come. "I would that we returned to Arden for a while. Then perhaps we shall travel the lands of Mithgar."

"That would please me, _chier_," said Faedra. "A long rest would do wonders for my spirit and mind, as would a bit of travel through the wilds of the land."

"Then rest and travel it shall be, love," said Kaje as he leaned over and kissed the Dara.

"I think I shall return to the Bosky," said Sargienka. "Yes . . . return to the Bosky and settle in for a while."

"Well, my small friend," said Kaje, "thou shalt always be welcome in Arden. As will thee, Julina."

"That is good to know," Julina said as she sat fletching arrows to fill her empty quiver. "Though I have no home to speak of, it is nice to know that I will be welcome in Arden." Then, with a sincere look of appreciation on her face, she added simply, "Thank you."

After this naught was said as all sat in thought of the days to come. Looking from her work at fletching arrows, Julina turned to look at Vanidor. "And where shall you go, Vanidor? Back to Arden as well?"

"Nay, not Arden," said Vanidor, a forlorn look upon his face. "Perhaps I will travel back to the High Plane." And after a short pause and questioning looks from both Kaje and Faedra, he continued: "There is naught for me on this plane. My love is slain. And to remain here would only cause more grief and pain. So, back to the High Plane I shall travel."

"Will you ever return?" Sargienka asked.

"Perhaps . . . perhaps not. I will have to wait and see how the wounds of my heart heal. But, until then, I shall reside upon the High Plane."

"I blame thee not, friend," said Kaje. "For if it were me in thy place, I would do the same."

As Kaje finished talking, a low rumble sounded from the mound behind them. Turning to face the mound, all in the group saw that a vertical rift was beginning to form in the side of the mound. Then, as the rift became wider, Phoenix stepped from the mound; the Dara looked refreshed and well rested.

"Phoenix!" shouted Sargienka as she stood and ran to the Dara's side. "It is good to see you again. "We were worried that you fared much worse than expected."

"Apparently I was in pretty bad shape. For Daonnan came to me in the mound and told me that I had yet to heal and that I required more rest in the mound."

"Well, regardless of how long it took, it is good to see thee once again afoot and healed," Kaje said as he and Faedra walked to stand before her. "We have, just now, been talking on the days to come and our plans for them. Faedra and I shall return to Arden. And I would have thee return there as well."

"That sounds good. In fact that was my original intent when I became caught up on his whole mess."

"So then it's set . . . Thou shalt return to Arden with us. And, if thou art feeling ready, we shall leave now," Kaje said.

"Let us away then," she said, a broad smile beaming across her face. Turning to look at Vanidor, she then asked, "Vanidor, will thee be riding to Arden as well?"

"Nay, Phoenix, I shall travel on the twilight back to Adonar and my family."

"Twould be a better place to grieve the loss of a love than upon the plane on which she was slain. I wish thee good fortune and speedy travel fare, Alor." Leaning over and kissing the Elf upon the cheek, Phoenix hugged him strongly ere turning to the others. "And where shall these next few days find thee?" she asked of the two small ones.

"I shall return to the Bosky and my kin therein," Sargienka said.

"I shall travel the lands of Mithgar for a while and sharpen my skills with the bow," Julina said.

"Do you think Daonnan will see us off?" asked Sargienka, the slight Warrow looking about the glade as she spoke.

"I know not the ways of the shepherd, now shall I begin to try. But, if all are ready?" he said as he looked around at the others, they nodding in turn, "then let us away!"

And, so it was. Kaje, Faedra, and Phoenix all returning to Arden, Sargienka returning to the Bosky, and Julina setting out to discover the many wonders of Mithgar. As for Vanidor, he rode the Twilight Ride back to Adonar and then spent many seasons there. As for Kane, none in the group encountered him for some time. But, that is another tale.


End file.
